


Marionette

by Mayoki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amnesia, Anxiety, Being taken care of, BrOT4, Brainwashing, Bromance, Burns, Drug Addiction, Fever, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Heart Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Mental Instability, Mind Control, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rescue Missions, Scars, Stress Baking, With lots of hurt, pre-release fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 91,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayoki/pseuds/Mayoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If King Regis was honest to himself, he knew that the peace treaty between Niflheim and Lucis was never going to happen. But he had believed for his people, and for the people of Niflheim, that the two nations could work together to achieve something other than war. That was before the bombs fell. Before the soldiers invaded his city and his palace. Before they stole the most precious thing to him. The loss of the crystal he could have handled, but the loss of his son was almost too much to bear. For taking Noctis, Regis would have Niflheim and her people burn.</p><p>Idola has other plans, though, and has ways of making Noctis bend to his will to attack the place he had once called home, and the people he had once called family. By the time Lucis gets its prince back, his father and friends may have to accept that he will never be the same Noctis that they once knew. That boy is dead, and in his place is just an empty shell. Idola's final insult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The False Peace Treaty

**Author's Note:**

> I've been debating for a while whether to write all of this at once, or to release it as a multi-chaptered fic. But I have so many ideas for this and it has so many characters in it that I think multi-chaptered is the way to go. Plus you get updates quicker! Special thanks to Demishock for helping me debate this, as it took a lot of thinking about! ^^; ♥
> 
> This is going to be long, and dark and I'm really sorry but I'll write some happy stuff in between to try and balance everything out. ^^;
> 
> Dedicated to the awesome fandom for keeping the FFXV hype alive. And to Saki-san who wanted a longer story!
> 
> Notes: I know we have no information on the dragoon (dark hair/green eyed) lady, or the red haired man, but I've given them the names of Aurora and Asta and aligned them with Niflheim initially. The name Aurora was used on Tumblr but I can't find the post to credit who gave her it, but I think it's a nice name and why the heck not? ^^ Also named Gladio's dad Sectis (Latin "to cut", since Gladiolus's name is sword).

The preparations had been ongoing for months, ever since the treaty had first been announced, and nobody could be happier; it was an end to the war, and end to the suffering that had plagued the world for years as Niflheim invaded countries and attacked them for their crystals. Finally Emperor Idola had backed down after months of heavy losses in his army and was willing to surrender and sign the treaty that would stop Lucis from using the last remaining crystal to destroy the nation of Niflheim completely.

Idola had lost, Lucis had won. But King Regis wasn't happy. He wouldn't be happy until Idola was back in his dreary grey garrison state, piecing back together the broken cities of his war-torn country and far away from Lucis' borders.

'Cor,' Regis said, standing before the huge window of his office that looked out over the kingdom below. 'I don't want you at the signing.'

There was an uneasy shuffle behind him, and Regis could picture his closest protector shifting his weight as he tried to think of what to say.

'Majesty?' was all Cor said, ever to the point. The single word held a weight of meaning.

'They may be losing, but Idola would never give up. Not when he still has soldiers left in his army. There's something off about all of this. I'd prefer it if one of my personal guard were on the outside in case things blow up in our faces.'

More shuffling. 'Niflheim has lost a lot of innocent citizens in the backlash from their attacks on Accordo and Tenebrae. Perhaps Idola is finally ready for peace?'

Regis smiled wryly, studying his reflection in the glare of the glass. He looked older, and felt older. 'Do you really believe that, Cor? Idola would fight on even if every last one of his citizens was dead. I've seen the man walk over the corpses of children without batting an eyelid, he has no regard for human life only for his own gain. He would sooner see every last soul of his empire expire if it meant that he had an active crystal. He wants power, not adoration. If he has a crystal he has the potential to rule any kingdom he wants. Which is why we must keep ours safe. It's the last now, and he knows it. He'll try and take it.'

'At the signing ceremony?' Cor asked.

'Exactly. I have no idea what he's planning, but he's not here for peace.'

'If you suspect he's going to attack, then why don't you want me in there with you?' Cor asked.

'Because he's not going to attack me, he's going to go for the crystal. I need you to protect that. Cor, Lucis depends on the Caelum family's connection to the crystal. We've always had the most powerful one, and the strongest bond. It's what keeps us in power. We can't lose it, or Lucis will fall. And Idola will build an empire from its ashes. I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in a world ruled by that madman.'

Cor didn't want to entertain that unpleasant thought. 'I'll protect the crystal at all costs.'

Regis turned away from the window, and offered the younger man a small smile. 'Thank you, Cor. I knew I could count on you.'

-

'But _why?'_ Noctis asked, clearly not pleased with the turn of events.

'I honestly couldn’t guess, your highness,' Ignis said as he took the seat beside his prince on the sofa. Prompto had started up the video game console and was already playing a racing game against Gladiolus.

'I don't understand. Are you sure that's what he said?' Noctis asked again for what felt like the fiftieth time.

'Your father was quite clear when he briefed me this morning, I assure you,' Ignis said.

Gladiolus turned in his seat as "player 2 wins" flashed up on the screen. 'Noct, you'd probably have been bored sitting in there for hours anyway. You've got a get out of jail free card here, make the most of it.'

'Exactly, and you won't miss your afternoon nap this way,' Prompto said cheerfully. 'And you don't have to wear a suit, you can dress how you want. Oh, and don't forget you don't have to be fake nice to that creepy emperor guy. He freaks me out.'

Ignis nodded and placed his hand on Noctis's shoulder. 'I feel safer knowing that you're not going to be anywhere near Emperor Idola. There is something very sinister about the man.'

'All the more reason for me to be at the signing, so I can protect my father if the bastard tries anything,' Noctis said.

Gladiolus snorted. 'Really? A room full of Lucis's finest guards, but the king needs his weedy little son to protect him. You gonna take out Idola and his handpicked soldiers all by yourself, champ?'

Noctis flushed red. 'Well, yeah? I guess.'

Gladiolus laughed harder, and leaned over to ruffle Noctis's hair. 'You've got balls, I'll give you that. And you're coming along nicely in our training, but you're nowhere near their level. Idola will be bringing guards that have been fighting in wars since before you were born, kiddo. It's cool that you want to protect your family, but the most helpful thing you can do is to stay out of the way.'

Noctis frowned, and crossed his arms over his chest. This wasn't how he'd intended the day to go at all. He'd already picked out something suitable to wear, and he'd been practicing nice things to say to Idola (lies, of course) for when he finally met the old man in person. He wanted to do his father proud, and sit by his side for this momentous occasion. It wasn't every day that two bitter enemies forged a treaty after all, Noctis wanted to be there for it. But instead his father had told Ignis to keep him out of the way.

'Doesn't he trust me?' Noctis asked finally, feeling a pang of sadness. Okay, so he hadn't always taken a great interest in his duties, but he had been a kid back then. He was starting to settle down now he was grown up, and he wished his father would see that and give him more responsibilities.

'He does trust you, highness. This is just a very delicate matter,' Ignis said.

'Too delicate for me to be anywhere near? Yeah, he really trusts me,' Noctis grumbled.

Prompto flung himself at the sofa, squishing in between Noctis and Ignis and forgetting all about the video game he had been playing. 'Hey, no frowning. It makes you look all emo.'

'I'm not frowning,' Noctis said, with a frown.

'You are _so_ frowning. Come on, it's a lovely day, the king said you couldn't go to the boring meeting but that doesn't mean you have to stay stuck in your bedroom all day. Why don't we go outside for a bit?'

'And do what?' Noctis asked moodily.

Prompto shrugged, but there was a smirk on his lips. 'I dunno. Just walk around for a bit. Maybe take a stroll by the lake. You know, outside the audience chamber…'

Noctis's frown melted to a grin. 'You mean eavesdrop?'

'I didn't say that,' Prompto said, in a tone that suggested that had been exactly what he'd meant.

The group left Noctis's bedroom and sauntered through the halls of the palace. There were guards everywhere; most of them wearing the black uniforms of the Lucian army, but there were plenty of blue Niflheim soldiers too. Idola had insisted on bringing guards for his own safety, and they stood sentry alongside the Lucians. Nobody paid the group any mind, though, so they were able to walk right out into the sunshine, all the way to the courtyard outside the audience chamber.

'Well this sucks,' Prompto said. The guards were all posted so close to the huge windows of the audience room that there was no way in hell they were getting close enough to overheard anything.

Ignis scoffed. 'I'm not entirely sure what you were thinking, really, you've both been in the audience chamber before. You know the measures taken to ensure complete confidentiality. For something as high profile as this do you really think security would be lax? Some of the most important men in the world are in that room, even the Prince of Lucis won't get close.'

'The Prince of Lucis should be in there,' Noctis grumbled, still not happy at having been told to stay out. 'I can be useful. I'm going to be king someday, I need to be sitting in on discussions like this.'

Ignis placed a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. 'I know, highness. But the king will have had his reasons. I wish I was in there too.'

'You're both crazy. My dad _is_ in there, and I'm sure it's boring as hell,' Gladiolus said.

Noctis sighed and wandered over to the edge of the lake. The waters were crystal blue, reflecting the perfectly clear early afternoon sky. At King Regis's request the lake was always stocked with frogs, something that Noctis had loved when he was a child and used to try and catch for hours on end, usually getting himself soaked in the process. More than once Gladiolus had needed to wade in and carry him out when he'd ventured too deep as a toddler. Noctis sighed and glanced out over the glittering ripples on the surface, and wished that things were as easy as those days when all he had to worry about was catching more frogs than yesterday, and what Cor would say when he came inside dripping wet yet again. A large hand rested on his shoulder, and the warmth of his bodyguard pressed close to his side.

'You've got years to go, Noct. There will be other treaty signings, and negotiations, and meetings. You're still young and Idola is a complete ass. I'm guessing the reason your father wanted you out here is so that the creep doesn't set eyes on you. I know I feel better knowing you're safe, you never know when someone as unpredictable as Idola is gonna start something funny.'

'All the more reason I should be in there to help,' Noctis said, feeling the bond between himself and the crystal thrum with energy in response to his heightened emotional state.

The hand at his shoulder squeezed gently. 'Love the attitude little guy, and in a few years time I'll be standing behind your chair in there and we'll get to listen to all sorts of boring crap. But today we're free so instead of moping about why don't we actually do something?'

'Like what?' Noctis said, clearly moping since he couldn't do the thing he actually wanted to do.

Nobody answered, though, as the dull drone of airships filled the sky. For a moment they looked out over the lake, to the dark grey dot in the otherwise unblemished sky. The dot got bigger and bigger, the soft sound of the blades getting louder.

'That's Niflheim's, right?' Noctis said, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he tried to make out the shape of the aircraft. It definitely wasn't a standard Lucian military war craft.

Ignis squinted and nodded. 'Yes, I believe it is.'

'It's a bit lost if it's here, Niflheim is halfway across the world,' Prompto said.

By now the craft was near enough that they could see the flag of Niflheim printed on the side. They could also see two more dots in the distance.

'I don't think they're lost, Prom,' Noctis said, glancing back toward the palace. 'I need to tell my father.'

Ignis grabbed his arm. 'Highness, we don't know if this is supposed to happen. Let's not jump to conclusions and burst in on an official negotiation without first making a few sensible enquiries.'

Noctis pulled his arm back and thrust his hand to the sky. 'You think they're supposed to be brining an army?'

Ignis adjusted his glasses. 'An airship of that size could hold no more than eight soldiers. There are three of them, twenty-four is hardly an army.'

'You mean sixty-four,' Prompto corrected nervously.

'I know my multiplication tables, thank you Prompto. Twenty-four is…oh my,' Ignis said, finally seeing what Prompto had seen; five more airships in the distance. And when he looked to the west there were at least another half a dozen advancing. 'Gentlemen, we have a problem.'

' _Now_ can I go burst in?' Noctis asked impatiently.

'I believe that may be the correct course of action,' Ignis permitted, and chased after his charge as the dark shadows of the airships descended upon the palace grounds.

As they ran they heard the metallic whine of mechanical doors opening, then everything exploded. Bullets rang out behind them as they ran, whizzing past them and blowing chunks of stone from the walls of the palace.

'Keep going!' Gladiolus yelled, moving to position himself behind the prince to shield him with his larger body. 'Prom get the door.'

'Roger,' Prompto said, sprinting ahead as the fastest of the group and slamming his full weight against the door into the palace as he pressed down on the handle. He went stumbling in and would have fallen if he hadn't crashed into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor. He watched as Ignis pushed Noctis inside to safety then followed him in, and barely a heartbeat later Gladiolus was inside too and shutting the door behind him.

'Everyone alright?' Gladiolus asked.

'Never better,' Noctis muttered, steadying himself then sprinting off down the corridor toward the audience chamber.

'Come on people, this ain't a drill,' Gladiolus said, herding the other two when they didn't move immediately.

Inside the palace was strangely quiet, and Noctis didn't like that one bit. Where were all the guards? They'd posted extra for the occasion since there were so many important people attending, but there was nobody…'Shit,' Noctis said, skidding to a stop and almost slipping in the blood on the tiles. A guard had managed to drag himself a few feet down the corridor after being shot, but he was now staring unblinking up at the ceiling and lying in a pool of his own blood. Noctis took a deep shaky breath and stepped around him, then carried on for the audience chamber. Where he'd been expecting to find guards he found only corpses; and all Lucian ones at that. There was supposed to be a mix of Niflheim and Lucis guards keeping watch outside the doors, but it seemed the Niflheim men had turned on the Lucians, probably given a signal when the airships entered Insomnia's skies.

The doors to the audience chamber were wide open so Noctis hurried inside. Several men in dark suits were dead on the ground, but Noctis's attention focused on his father, who was being cradled to the chest of Gladiolus's father, Sectis Amicitia. Sectis was bleeding from a shoulder gunshot wound, but was pressing a cloth to the king's chest. Noctis took a few shaky steps toward the two, then fell to his knees. His father looked as pale as death. He reached out a shaky hand, just as the king opened his eyes.

It took a few seconds for Regis to recognise his son, but a small smile spread on his lips when he did. 'Noct…you need to leave. Idola…' a weak cough escaped the older man's lips, and flecks of blood stained his lips.

'Careful, your majesty,' Sectis said, gently rubbing circles on the other man's back.

'Dad, just hold on. I'll get him. Don't worry,' Noctis said, his eyes flashing red with anger.

'No!' Regis said, lurching forward then grimacing in pain. 'He's mad. And he has re-enforcements on the way. He's been sending undercover soldiers to Insomnia for weeks, they're already taking over the city and more soldiers are coming. You have to leave Lucis, find somewhere safe and plan a counter attack. You have-' Regis broke out into another coughing fit that seemed to last a lifetime.

Noctis held his breath as he watched his father's face contort in pain. 'I'm not leaving.'

'You have to,' Regis begged. 'You're Lucis's last hope. If you die our kingdom dies too. They've already taken the crystal, without you-'

'What?' Noctis asked, panic rising within him. 'They can't take it. I won't let them.'

Regis smiled. 'So stubborn. But they're doing it as we speak. So you need to run. Go to Accordo, we have allies there who will shelter you and help you plan a way to take Idola down.'

'Not happening,' Noctis grumbled, rolling back the sleeves of his dark hoodie and placing his palms flat on his father's chest.

'Noctis no, you don't have time. They could return at any moment,' Regis said, trying to lift a hand to push his son away.

Noctis simply carried on with his spell, channelling warm healing energy from the crystal into a spell that would heal the damage the bullet had done tearing through his father's chest. He was almost finished when a deafening boom echoed through the palace, and the ground itself shook. Bombs.

'The crystal,' Noctis said, glancing down at his father. The other man was almost healed, definitely enough to survive. With a potion to complete it and some rest to replenish the blood he'd lost, King Regis would live to rule another day. Feeling pleased with himself Noctis sprang to his feet and started for the door.

'Noctis, please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing,' Regis yelled, sitting himself up with Sectis's assistance.

'Fine, I won't tell you,' Noctis said, as he disappeared from the room. He passed his friends in the doorway and yelled over his shoulder. 'New plan; we get the crystal back.'

'The crystal?' Gladiolus said, glancing into the audience chamber which had been painted red with blood. His eyes met his father's, and the elder nodded. Gladiolus understood; they each had a Caelum to protect, he couldn't afford a moment of sentimentality to check his father was okay. He had a job to do. He ran after Noctis, his two friends hot on his heels.

The last active crystal in the world belonged to Lucis, which made them the powerhouse kingdom. While everyone envied them, only Niflheim openly opposed Lucis being the one to own it. So really it wasn't such a shock that Idola would have planned to capture it, Noctis was just angry to hell and back. He raced out to the courtyard where the crystal was kept; more dead guards, though he was pleased to note a couple of Niflheim uniforms among the fallen this time. At least his guards had put up a decent fight. The sound of airship blades was deafening, and the air was swirling about like a tornado. Soldiers were attaching ropes to the crystal ready for it to be lifted out and in the centre of it all barking orders was Emperor Idola himself.

Before he knew what he was doing Noctis had summoned a weapon to his hand; a broadsword with a heavy hilt that took both hands to wield, but would slice off the old guy's head with one neat swing. Noctis didn't think he just acted, running forward as best as he could with the weight of the sword pulling him back, but then he drew from the power within himself and leaped into the air, using his momentum to swing the sword toward Idola.

He was too slow. Or the soldier was too fast. White and silver flashed before his eyes and his sword connected with a metallic thunk in the metal armour of the drone. It was programmed for one thing; to protect Idola at all costs. Noctis backed up a step, letting the broadsword dissipate into the ether. Warm beads of magic surrounded his hand but he didn't let them fade. He formed them into something lighter; a smaller, thinner sword that he was able to twirl in his hand so that the blade was aimed underneath the helmet. He thrust forward, putting what little weight he had into the attack, and let the weapon slide through the neck of the drone, severing wires and disconnecting the main processing unit from the body. The machine dropped to the floor like a stone, the light in its eyes slowly fading.

'Impressive,' Idola murmured, watery grey eyes watching Noctis carefully as the second sword demolecularised before his eyes.

'Yeah, cause I live to please you,' Noctis said, straightening up from the attack and choosing his next move. His gaze flickered briefly from Idola to the crystal behind him. 'That's not yours.'

'Oh, I know. But possession is nine tenths of the law,' Idola said with a smirk.

'Awesome, so if I slice your head off that will be mine? I think I've got a spike outside the front gates that could use a grotesque deterrent.'

'Such anger from one so young,' Idola said, taking his time with his words, clearly stalling while the crystal was loaded onto the hoist. 'Your father must be turning in his grave. Did you meet him on your way here? Manage to say a few last words to him? Unfortunately we had a disagreement, and my gun accidentally fired-'

'Don't worry about it, my hands are going to accidently rip your intestines out, so we'll call it even,' Noctis said, his eyes blood red with anger. He knew that his father was alive and well, but he wasn't going to give Idola reason to order soldiers to find Regis and try a second assassination attempt. No, Noctis could do this fine on his own. Except he wasn't alone, and when he glanced over his shoulder he saw his three friends skidding to a halt behind him.

'Highness, now is not the time to engage,' Ignis said sharply. A sweat had broken out on his forehead, he looked ruffled which was odd for him.

'Noct, get back here now,' Gladiolus said, his voice strong and deep despite the fear in his eyes at seeing his prince so close to the enemy.

'Stay back. I got this,' Noctis said dismissively, turning his attention back to Idola and the crystal that was starting to rise from the ground, tugged by the straps around it as the airship above rose high into the sky. He didn't want them getting hurt because of this, he didn't need distractions while fighting; he'd just worry about them getting hurt, or hitting them with his magic. So he lifted a barrier to stop them passing through.

'Highness! Drop the barrier this instant,' Ignis yelled, his eyes bright with terror. Though he knew Noctis was capable he was facing soldiers and Idola on his own. There was no way it could end well.

'Sorry Iggy,' Noctis said with a small, sad smile. 'I don't want you guys getting hurt. Too many people have died today.'

'Highness _please_ ,' Ignis begged, his gaze meeting Noctis's.

'Sorry, this is my job. I'm going to stop Idola,' Noctis said, turning his back on his friends.

'Too late, your highness,' Idola said, taking a step backward. 'I wonder how well Lucis will do without her crystal. I was going to kill you too, but I think it would be more amusing to see you suffer as you watch your kingdom unravel around you and mourn the loss of your father. And as you realise that there's not a single damn thing you can do, because without this chunk of rock you're beyond useless. Just a scrawny little boy with a crown. See how the people tear you down when they realise you're just human. Just like your father; he arrogantly thought he was better than everyone else, but he bled the same as anyone when shot. You're nothing special, _highness_.' Idola spat, but then his sneer turned to shock as he focused on something over Noctis's shoulder.

Noctis turned around despite his better judgement. In the archway to the crystal's courtyard King Regis stood, leaning against the frame as if he was in pain. He stumbled forward, past Gladiolus, toward his son and Idola. Using his own magic Regis broke through the barrier, leaving Gladiolus to pound against it with his fist and Ignis to desperately try to find a way through it to assist them.

'Father,' Noctis said, reaching out for the older man as he stumbled a little, still weak from the trauma and blood loss.

Regis took his arm to steady himself, then turned dark blue eyes onto Idola. 'You are not taking that crystal. Set it down now and I promise that you and your men can walk away unharmed.'

'I should have known better than to assume you dead. Always the hero, Regis, looking to put yourself in the best light when really your heart is filled with shadows,' Idola's gaze flickered to Noctis. 'You have no idea the things your father has done, and what he's capable of in his quest for power. He paints me as the power-hungry villain, but why do you think all the other crystals deactivated?'

Noctis hesitated for only a second, but Idola noticed and his smirk widened. 'You're bound because of your dear father. While every other kingdom had only one person bound to their crystal to feed it energy your father sensed that one soul wasn't enough so enlisted you to help him. While the lights of the other crystals faded one by one nobody could understand why Lucis's crystal still burned bright. Until they saw you; the tiny little prince that was always sleeping. Then we all knew what the great King Regis had done, just so that he could keep his power. He could have killed you, Prince Noctis, by binding you to the crystal so young. And I believe he nearly did if the reports are true-'

'Silence!' Regis yelled, though there was an odd flush to his cheeks.

Noctis still had an arm around his waist, and turned quizzical eyes up at his father. 'You… _chose_ to bind me?'

Regis faltered; now wasn't the time for this conversation. Idola was saying these things to buy time, already the crystal was being lifted from the ground. There wasn't time. 'I did what I had to, son,' Regis said, hoping his son would understand.

But Noctis didn't understand. He pulled away from his father with a frown. 'All these years I've been exhausted. I haven't been able to keep up in school, or training, or with my friends. I stumble through every day in a fog because I'm so tired and you didn't _have_ to do this to me?'

Idola grinned. 'Oh dear, have I opened up a family rift?'

Noctis's eyes flashed red, from both anger and magic as he spun around to face Idola and waved a hand to materialise half a dozen phantom swords and send them flying toward the emperor. Idola's eyes widened in panic briefly, but a magitek drone dove in front of him to take the hit, the metallic shell falling to the ground in a fit of sparks.

The pain in Regis's eyes almost made Noctis falter, but at the same time it was too much to take in right now. Too many emotions swirled inside him; he'd been through hell during his childhood, trying to be a normal kid and enjoy his life while being drained by the relentless thirst of the crystal. Could he have been spared all that?

'Noctis,' Regis began, then glanced at the crystal. It was high above their heads now, and the airship was drifting away. 'Noctis now is not the time, they're stealing the crystal. For Etro's sake trust me for five minutes until all of this is under control, then I'll explain everything.'

Noctis frowned again. 'Even now you're more concerned about the damn crystal than me.'

'That's not true. Not at all, Noct. You're the most important thing in my life, you _know_ that,' Regis said, his voice thick with pain.

'Touching, truly touching, but I have places to be I'm afraid. I'll have to cut our meeting short, your majesty,' Idola bowed low, then turned to board the second airship that had landed in the courtyard where the crystal had once stood.

That was enough to snap Noctis back to the matter at hand, and he summoned a shield of phantom swords to block Idola's path, just as his father did the same thing. Together their barrier of weapons drove Idola back a few steps and proved to be too thick for the few magitek troops that remained; they were all cut down. Idola was starting to look a little pale.

'Bring it back,' Noctis said between gritted teeth. 'Call the airship back right now and bring back our crystal.'

Idola held his hands up in surrender. 'I'm afraid the airship is manned by drones, I'd have to have someone recalibrate their orders which can’t happen until they're back in Niflheim.'

One of Noctis's swords sliced dangerously close to Idola's face, causing the older man to stumble back and almost trip.

'Call them back,' he repeated.

'It's no use to you anyway, it only answers those it's bound to,' Regis said, struggling to maintain his own set of phantom swords as the exhaustion of the day and the injuries caught up with him. Half the swords in the whirlwind began to flicker, then faded from view.

'Father?' Noctis asked, casting a quick glance to the side.

'I'm fine,' Regis insisted, right before he fell to his knees.

'Father!' Noctis made to crouch beside him, but his father waved a hand.

'Get Idola,' his father said.

Noctis glanced up just in time to realise he had let his guard down, and that Idola was planning something. The emperor had his pistol out and without warning he fired. Noctis expected from the trajectory to hear his father scream out, but his father wasn't yelling in pain, no, he was calling Noctis's name. Why was he doing that? And why did his leg hurt so much? Oh. _Oh_. Noctis collapsed, but surprisingly strong arms caught him, and began dragging him back toward the airship. Through hazy eyes he saw his father struggling to his feet, and saw his friends and Sectis screaming his name from behind the barrier. His fogged mind thought to lower it, and as soon as it was down his friends moved, and the sounds of his name being screamed by hoarse voices filled the air. Gladiolus was running, but the doors to the airship were creaking shut. He was tossed to the floor and then he knew nothing more.

'Noctis!' Regis yelled, stumbling forward then falling again. Strong arms caught him, and Sectis gently lowered him to the ground, with Gladiolus on the other side. All three men watched as the airship lifted off the ground and disappeared into the sky. Regis attempted to summon something to help, but his energy failed him and he fell to the side into Sectis's arms.

'Your majesty, you're exhausted,' Sectis said.

'I don't care. I need to…they took…oh Etro…' The king's breathing came out in short ragged gasps as he reached up a hand to the fading dot in the sky. His son was on that airship. _His son_ had just been kidnapped by a tyrant.

Hurried footsteps came up beside him, and a soldier crouched down to him. 'Your majesty, we've readied the fleet, they're waiting for your command. We can shoot them out of the sky, but the crystal might be damaged in the fall. It's your call.'

'Sod the Etro-damned crystal, _my_ _son is on one of those airships._ Nobody is to shoot any down, am I clear?'

The soldier recoiled a little, and hurried to nod. 'Of course. I'll give the order.'

The king groaned as Sectis and Gladiolus helped him to his feet, where he swayed slightly. When he looked up he saw Ignis and Prompto watching him worriedly, and Cor too. It seemed everyone had arrived too late. Regis wanted to yell and scream at them all, but it hadn't been their fault. They'd been invaded, there had been other things to worry about and nobody could have predicted this. And Noctis had erected that damn barrier to save them. The strength went from him and he let Sectis and Cor take each of his arms to support him. 'I need…to my office. I need to request assistance from our allies.'

'You need to sleep,' Cor said gruffly. 'You've exhausted yourself, your majesty.'

'I will not sleep until my son is home,' Regis said sharply. His face crumpled in pain as he took a few steps, but his two closest guards helped him out of the crystal's chamber, ready to beg from anybody that would still speak to Lucis. Regis wasn't above begging, not when it came to Noctis's safety.

-

Regis replaced the phone in the receiver with great composure. As soon as it was set in its cradle his kind blue eyes flashed crimson and the phone exploded into a thousand pieces. Neither Cor nor Sectis raised an eyebrow at this, both had been expecting it really. Every single leader that Regis had tried to contact had refused aid, even those that were in debt to Lucis and under their protection.

Rubbing his eyes Regis felt a flash of pain stab through his chest from the gunshot, but pushed it aside. 'We're on our own.' The realisation came crashing down on him, and he felt the weight of the situation crushing his chest. His heart hurt; his son - the boy he lived and breathed for - had been taken and not a single kingdom would offer any assistance.

Cor shifted his weight from foot to foot. 'Majesty, perhaps Tenebrae-'

'I asked. I begged, I pleaded. They politely informed me that with their princess Lunafreya still missing in the chaos they are currently more likely to send their forces our way than toward Niflheim. Tenebrae are always so polite, even when threatening you with war.'

Sectis spoke up. 'All of my men have been told to search for her while out forcing the Niflheim drones back, your majesty. Every single guard and soldier knows her face and if they see her they are to stop what they're doing and escort her to the palace. The princess's safety is paramount.'

'Very good, but I fear it won't be enough to appease them. Even if they get Lunafreya back they won't help us. We no longer have a crystal, so why would anybody join us in the fight? They'll sit on the sidelines until the dust has settled and a winner between ourselves and Niflheim has been decided, then they'll seek protection from whomever wins.' Regis's hand balled into a fist on the desk and trembled.

'Cowards,' Sectis murmured. 'Fair weather friends.'

'They follow the crystal. People fear and admire it and whoever holds it has the power. Idola knows this and he'll use it to rule over everything.' Regis stared down at his hands, feeling the weight of the situation collapse upon him. A strong hand squeezed his shoulder gently.

'Majesty, there's no more you can do for now. You'll be no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion,' Cor said.

Sectis nodded. 'We'll continue the search for Lunafreya and I'll personally join the effort to rid the streets of these damn tin can soldiers.'

Regis wanted to protest, but his energy was fading fast. His link to the crystal was growing weaker, and his heart was heavy with the loss of his son. Resignedly he nodded. 'Cor, I want to be woken in four hours, though. I can't afford more than that. Not with Noctis in that bastard's hands.'

Cor nodded, though it was an unspoken agreement between himself and Sectis that he would allow their king six hours.

Regis sighed and shook his head. 'He can't win. I can't let him win. I will get my son back, mark my words. I will get him back even if the streets of Niflheim have to run red with the blood of her people.'

-

The first sense to return was feeling. He was lying on a cold, damp floor. A deep, pulsing pain burned in his thigh but he didn't have the energy to do anything about it. It was simply there, the pain throbbing with every beat of his heart. The next thing he registered was muffled sounds; footsteps, voices, machines. Then came the light and that brought on the pain in his head, too. He closed his eyes after a second, then opened them again when he sensed somebody watching him.

'Well good morning there, kitten,' said a smooth, silky voice.

Noctis forced his eyes to focus on the man standing over him. He knew that he should have a million questions, but the only one that jumped out at him was: 'Kitten?'

The man smirked in that Niflheim way. He was handsome; earlier thirties perhaps with shoulder length wavy wine red hair and a lazy light in his eyes. 'Kitten. They sleep for eighteen hours a day, and you've nearly managed that yourself. Impressive.'

Another long blink, Noctis still didn't understand. 'Who the hell are you?'

'Where are my manners? My name is Asta, I'm a personal guard of Emperor Idola Aldercapt, first of his name, bringer of order to the realms, master of the last crystal, defeater of Lucis and I'm sure there's some more crap in there somewhere but my memory isn't that great.'

'Oh,' Noctis said, letting his eyes fall closed again. 'Your hair is girly.'

The man gave pause, then burst into laughter. 'You little shit. They said you were annoying, but I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt.'

'Oh I'm annoying, trust them. In fact I'll annoy you so much that you might as well go get Idola first of his realm or whatever, and I can sort out this whole mess and go home. And if you could pick me up a potion on the way back that would be great.'

'You talk too much,' Asta said, but his smirk was still firmly in place. 'Not for much longer, though.'

'Oh you're going to kill me? Torture me?' Noctis asked, feigning disinterest. 'My father will have sent his army, they're probably knocking down the gates of Niflheim as we speak.'

'Your army is a little busy, kitten. Magitek troops are amazing things. They don't worry about dying, they keep on fighting even if they lose a limb, or even if they're in pure, unspeakable agony,' Asta said, pressing his neat leather shoe down on the gunshot wound on Noctis's thigh. 'And there's two hundred thousand of them tearing their way through the streets of Insomnia right now. Your army is trying to make sure that there's a kingdom left for you to go back to; they're not going to stop what they're doing just for one little boy.'

Noctis was trying desperately hard not to cry out in pain, but the burning in his leg was unbearable. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as a sweat broke out on his pale skin. The foot pressed down harder.

'Kitten, help ain't coming. We're your family now.'

'You'll never…I'd rather die than stay here.'

'Careful what you wish for, there are things so much worse than death,' Asta said, and ground his foot down harder, smiling as the prince finally screamed.

'Asta! What are you doing?' Idola asked as he stormed into the room.

'Just playing. He's awake, by the way,' Asta said, taking a step back and falling into the shadows of the room.

'I can hear. The whole building can hear,' Idola muttered, peering down at Noctis who had curled up in pain and drawn his right leg up to his chest. 'Pitiful. He's perfect.'

'Are you going to heal him before we start?' a woman had followed Idola in; she was of average height, slender and beautiful with shoulder length inky black hair and bright emerald eyes.

Idola mused on that for a moment. 'No. I don't think I will, Aurora. The whole point is that it represses anything like thirst, hunger, pain or fear. This will be a good test of that.'

'As you wish,' she said. She held out to him a simple silver crown. 'Would you care to do the honours?'

'There's no rush, this is a significant moment, my sweet. Regis doesn't know the gift he gave me by pointing out that the crystal requires someone bound to it for any power to be drawn, just as Regis is the conduit to allow his guards to use the crystal's power, we shall use Prince Noctis to wield it.'

Noctis perked up a little. 'I'll never help you.'

'Oh silence, child. You're not going to have a choice in the matter.' Idola crouched down beside him, and held up the crown. 'Don't be fooled by it's plain appearance, it houses a technology of my own design. I call it the slave crown. Anyone that wears it will be completely under my control. You'll help me, highness, because you won't have a choice in the matter.'

Noctis pushed himself into a sitting position, then began to draw a fire spell from the crystal. Asta was behind him in a second, grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back. 'Not so fast, kitten, the party's just begun.'

'Indeed. Now, this is untested technology. I would have preferred to have spent a few more months fine tuning it, but needs must and you're here now. What a privilege for you, to be the first to try it out.'

Noctis kicked out with his uninjured leg, almost toppling Idola over.

Aurora steadied the emperor, then fast as lightning she somersaulted over him and drew a blade from the boot at her thigh, and held it close enough to Noctis's skin to bite the flesh. 'We don't need him, Emperor, we can do this without him.'

'Calm, Aurora. Unfortunately we do need him. Once he's wearing my crown he'll be a lot more cooperative. You can have your fun with him then.'

'I'll make him pay. For everything Lucis has done to our state,' she said, glaring into Noctis's eyes.

Noctis glared right back. 'I won't let you.'

Idola shuffled forward, and with Noctis held down by both his guards he was able to slip the metal over Noctis's head. Instantly the prince's eyes clouded over; the pupils constricted until they were almost invisible, and the clear blue they had once been took on a pale blue milky hue. His body relaxed, though he was able to keep himself sat up, and he stared out vacantly at a spot on the wall to the left of Idola.

Asta snapped his fingers in front of Noctis's face, but there was no reaction. 'Creepy.'

'Beautiful,' Aurora corrected. 'So he's ours now?'

'He is,' Idola confirmed, smiling brightly. 'Noctis? Stand up.'

The movements were jerky, as if he were a puppet moved by strings, but Noctis got to his feet undisturbed by the pain in his leg. Asta circled him, waving a hand in front of his eyes and laughing when the prince didn't react.

'Slap yourself in the face,' Asta ordered.

Noctis didn't move.

Asta frowned. 'He's broken.'

'The crown obeys voice commands of those authorised to issue them. At the moment mine is the only voice he will recognise,' Idola said with a shrug, getting to his feet and adjusting the crown on Noctis's head a little.

'So if he doesn't get any commands, what will he do?' Aurora asked.

'Nothing. Simply nothing. He won't eat, drink, speak, or even use the lavatory. He'd stand here all night if I didn't issue him a command to lie down.'

'Does he need sleep?' Aurora asked, reaching out to touch Noctis's cheek. For some reason it seemed unnatural that somebody so lifeless would still be warm to the touch.

'Uh, boss man?' Asta said. 'His nose is bleeding.'

Idola looked closer, and noticed the crimson liquid gathering at the bottom of one of Noctis's nostrils. It became a drip, then slid down Noctis's upper lip. The corners of his eyes were similarly red, and his ears too. 'Damn, this happened in the simulations. They said they'd worked the bugs out.'

A heartbeat later Noctis dropped to the floor and began convulsing, but not a single one of them moved to help him.

As the minutes ticked by it was clear Noctis wasn't going to stop, Idola sighed. 'Take it off him. Chuck him in a cell, I'll have someone look at it and we'll try again.'

Aurora pulled the crown off and Asta gathered the unconscious prince up in his arms, easily lifting him. 'Your wish is my command.'

-

There was a chill in the air as the first rays of sun bled into the darkness and chased away the stars. Ignis hadn't been able to sleep. In truth he hadn't even tried; he knew that if he lay down and closed his eyes he'd see Noctis being dragged away from him, and he didn't deserve peaceful rest when the man he'd sworn to protect was probably being tortured right this very moment. He swallowed back a shaky breath as he tried to imagine the horrors Noctis might be subjected to, then banished those thoughts. King Regis was going to do everything to get him back.

In the distance Ignis could still hear gunfire, though the army had managed to drive the worst of the fighting away from the palace. The lingering scent of smoke and death still hung in the air, though, and part of the palace was cordoned off as too unstable from the bombing it had taken.

With a sigh Ignis sat down on the low wall that had surrounded the crystal. Now there was only a huge circle in the centre of the great open-air chamber, a reminder of what they had lost. Only they had lost so much more than that. The only heir to their kingdom. Their prince. His _friend_.

'Can't sleep?' Someone behind him asked. Ignis didn't even need to look up as the voice was so familiar.

'I didn't feel it was right to sleep when he's probably not,' Ignis said.

Prompto plonked himself down on the wall beside Ignis, as usual far too close to be considered polite by Ignis's Tenebrae standards, but he had learned to accept - and even enjoy - Prompto's quirks. He knew that by placing himself so close Prompto was both seeking comfort and offering it to him, so he obliged by lifting up an arm which Prompto quickly ducked under, and melted into his side.

'You know Noct, the guy can sleep anywhere. He's probably out like a light.'

A little thrum of panic ran through Ignis; there was the distinct possibility that Noctis might be unconscious, but he doubted it would be through choice. Once again his mind began painting vivid pictures of Idola beating him, or shooting him, or stabbing him-

'Hey, you're frowning,' Prompto said sadly, nudging against his side slightly.

Ignis snorted and went to push his glasses up his nose. They were irritating him tonight for some reason, nothing felt right, so he took them off and placed them beside himself. That way he was able to rest his cheek against the top of Prompto's hair without worrying about getting the frames tangled with the wild blond locks. 'Is it any surprise that I'm frowning?'

'You need to think of a way to get him back, you can't be moping around. I've had an idea. We dress up as magitek troops, hitch a ride on one of their airships right into Niflheim and then get Noct back. Whaddya think?'

Ignis almost smiled, and squeezed the arm around Prompto's shoulders gently. 'Splendid idea. How many of us would be going?'

'Um, well us and Gladio. And maybe Cor? He's pretty handy.'

'Okay. Four people - two of whom have received precious little formal fighting training - are going to break through the heart of Niflheim and her army, free the prince from whatever prison they're holding him in, and then escape from it all unscathed?'

Prompto chewed his lower lip. 'The plan may need refining.'

'The plan needs a lot of refining,' Ignis admitted. 'But keep trying, you never know what might be the answer in the end. King Regis has called council for later this morning to begin discussing options. Let's hope that they come up with something.'

Prompto nodded, then his head rolled on Ignis's shoulder. 'Stars are pretty tonight. He'd have liked them.'

A lump formed in Ignis's throat and it was a long moment before he could trust his voice to speak. 'It's a clear sky, bar the smoke. And the stars are always brightest just before dawn.'

'He'd be able to tell us the constellations. Sometimes I'd help him sneak out of his bedroom and we'd sit on the roof and he'd point them out to me, but I could never see what he was seeing. They're just dots to me. Pretty, but I can't see the patterns. So he made some up just for me. He'd point at some and say they looked like a three legged chocobo, or Cor when he's got his grumpy face on or something.'

Ignis managed a small, fond smile at that. 'He'll do it again. When we get him back take him onto the roof and do it with him again.'

'I will. It's been so long since we've done anything like that, it'll be fun.'

'I'm sure,' Ignis said softly as he lifted his hand to run through the soft hair at the nape of Prompto's neck. There were footsteps behind him, but they were lazy and heavy, not the sounds of enemy magitek drones or the hurried purposeful steps of a guard coming to warn them of more bombings. Ignis guessed that it was Gladiolus behind them even before the other man spoke.

'So is nobody in this palace sleeping tonight?' he asked in his rough, deep voice. It sounded even more raw than usual and Ignis wondered if he'd been crying too. Not that Gladiolus would ever show it.

'After what happened can you blame anyone?' Ignis asked. 'Those that haven't suffered personal loss in the attack are terrified they'll be woken up by the ceiling falling on them. I don't think anyone will sleep soundly until we've managed to drive Niflheim's forces out of Lucis entirely.'

'And how long will that be?' Gladiolus said with a sigh. He sat down heavily on the wall beside Prompto and wrapped his arm around the blond too, his hand resting against the small of Ignis's back for comfort. There was a long stretch of silence before he spoke again. 'I'm gonna go and help them.'

Ignis had been expecting him to say that, but Prompto perked up and sat up a little further. 'What? You're gonna go and fight Niflheim? You can't! You might get hurt.'

Gladiolus grinned. 'Nah, nothing can touch me. Seriously, Prom, I'm part of the royal guard. It's what I signed up for.'

'No, you protect Noct. You're his personal bodyguard.'

'Fine job I did with that,' Gladiolus muttered under his breath. 'Noct isn't here. He doesn't need me, I can do more good driving those metal brainless puppets out of his kingdom so it's nice and clean when he gets back.'

Prompto still didn't look happy, but he took Gladiolus's hand in his own and squeezed it tightly. 'Don't be a hero, big guy. You better be here for Noct to come back to. He'll never let us hear the last of it if we let you go off to fight those things and you didn't come back.'

' _Let_ me?' Gladiolus snorted. 'I would love to see you try and stop me, little man.'

'I could. If I really wanted to I could. I've already lost one friend today I don't want to make it two…' Prompto said, and that silenced everyone. Even the wind stopped for a moment as they all let the grief wash over them anew. That was the reason Prompto wasn't trying harder to make Gladiolus stay; he knew that his friend would cope better with something to do and focus on. Out there fighting the drones he could do something actually useful and productive, rather than wander the halls of the half crumbled palace waiting desperately for any brief snatches of news.

'I guess it's just you and me then Iggy,' Prompto said.

Ignis hesitated. 'Actually, his majesty has requested that I be on hand to leave at any moment. He's currently contacting all of our allies to call on their support and he may need to dispatch me as an ambassador.'

Prompto swallowed hard. 'Okay. Just me then. That's cool. I can try and clean the palace up. Maybe tidy his bedroom for him.'

Gladiolus ruffled Prompto's hair. 'Hey, you're helpful doing whatever you can, alright? And when Noct gets back you know you'll be more useful than either of us. He's gonna be freaked out and he'll need someone to stick close to him and help him through it. You'll be the best at that.'

'Yeah. Yeah I can do that. I can watch movies and play video games and take him out for walks around the lake and chocobo riding,' Prompto said, glancing at Ignis for confirmation.

Ignis smiled. 'That sounds good. Once he's back I'm sure he'll appreciate some fun.'

'Okay. I can do that. Now we just need him back…'

-

He couldn't breathe through his nose. That woke him up quickly and for a moment he thought it was broken, but when he reached up there was no pain, just dried, crusted blood from a nosebleed. The iron tang was on his tongue, too, and made him want to vomit. His throat was dry and his body ached, but the worst thing was the headache and the disorientation. Never before when waking had he felt so confused, and he had no idea why he should be lying on a cold, stone floor behind thick, black bars. It was a prison cell, clearly, but how had he got there? And where was "here"? It certainly wasn't the dungeon in Insomnia, which made sense as he couldn't imagine doing anything bad enough to warrant his father throwing him in prison.

There were footsteps outside the cell, and though Noctis was desperate to see who it was he couldn't convince his body to move. He had the distinct feeling the footsteps were heading for him anyway, so he didn't bother trying too hard, he just tipped his head so that he could see the shadow looming. A tall, red haired man came into view and suddenly memories floated back to him one by one.

'The kitten awakens,' Asta said in his lazy, low drawl. He leaned against the bars and grinned down at Noctis. 'Lucky for you. The old man was going to crown you whether or not you were conscious. It'll be more fun if you're awake for it.'

Noctis's hands balled into fists. 'My father-'

'Is a thousand miles away with a few problems of his own. Your kingdom is under siege, highness. And daddy dearest ain't got many friends left in this war, not now that Lucis lost its crystal. Seems people were only nice to you because you had all the power, take that away and their allegiance switches. Funny that.'

'You don't even know what to do with the crystal,' Noctis said.

'That's where you come in, you're going to tell us what to do with it,' Asta said.

Noctis smirked. 'Yeah, you can shove it up your-'

'Asta, enough playing with him,' Idola called as he stormed down the corridor with Aurora in tow. The old man peered through the bars, taking in the crumpled form. 'Hn. Did anyone feed or water him?'

'We were told not to, sir,' one of the guards posted outside the cell said.

'Very well,' Idola said, then waved a hand for them to open the cell.

'Would you like me to do the honours, sir?' Aurora asked. 'He might be dangerous.'

'He's a boy,' Idola spat. 'He can't hurt me.'

As Idola approached Noctis braced himself against the floor and kicked up toward Idola's groin. The man leaped back just in time, and spun on his heel to glare red-faced at Asta who was howling with laughter.

'Asta, get in there and hold the little brat down,' Idola said, waiting for his officer to do just that before daring approach him again. 'I'm going to enjoy this. The look on your father's face when he sees me attacking with you at my side will be truly glorious. That will hurt him more than anything I could have ever done.'

'I'll never do as you ask,' Noctis said, squirming in the death grip he was being held in.

'Oh, clearly your memory is already a little hazy. This morning you were my perfect puppet, until the strain was too much. But we've tweaked it a bit now, so it should work rather nicely.'

As soon as the crown was produced Noctis recognised it. And recalled the feeling of his mind going blank. There was a gap in his memory, a void where he could recall being awake but couldn't remember anything that he had said or done. Had that been the effect of the crown?

Idola slipped it on his head and once more the world began to fade to grey. His vision tunnelled, sounds muted to silence, and it was as if he had become trapped in a box away from everything. He knew nothing; not his name, who he was, who he belonged to. A sense of calm washed over him, as there was simply nothing to worry about and nothing to trouble his mind thinking about. He simply existed. Through the darkness a voice called to him, and without even thinking he moved to obey.

'Sit,' Idola barked.

Noctis sat.

'Stand,' Idola said.

Noctis stood.

'Take this knife,' Idola said, holding it out. 'And draw it across your palm.'

Noctis did as he was asked, and didn't even flinch as the metal bit into his skin and beads of blood bubbled at the wound.

'The perfect soldier,' Idola said, taking his knife back and licking the blood clean from the blade's edge. There was something sweet about the taste of it, the tang of magic.

'Bah, he's no soldier, look at him. I could snap him in two like that,' Asta said, clicking his fingers.

'But can you do this?' Idola asked, then turned to Noctis. 'Produce a small spell of fire, contained to your hand.'

Noctis overturned his hand, and a faint glow of blue magic preceded the orange flames that leaped from his palm and crackled before their eyes.

'I could do that, I just don't feel like it,' Asta said with a shrug.

'Oh shut up, you don't even have an ounce of magic in your body,' Aurora said. 'This boy could be our key to unlocking the secrets. Once every nation in the world had a crystal so that leaders and their chosen guardians could draw magic and summon beasts. Now that the emperor controls him, this runt could be our conduit to the last crystal. We alone could use magic, channelled through him.'

'Exactly, my sweet,' Idola said, favouring her with a smile. 'Would you like to be the first to try it?'

Her emerald eyes lit up. 'I'd be honoured.'

She slipped into the cell and crouched down beside them, looking to Idola for guidance. He took her slender, pale hand in his larger, gnarled one, and held her hand out palm toward Noctis's chest.

'Niflheim was the first to lose her crystal, over thirty years ago, but my predecessor left notes on how he and his advisors would draw from the crystal. It's said that there are threads of energy that link the chosen one to the crystal, and that to use them as a conduit you must visualise the link between man and crystal and tap into that source. What you draw from him will be raw, potential energy; it can become anything from a healing spell to a fire spell to a summoning spell, so you must have a goal in mind and clearly picture what you want to do otherwise the energy will fade away quickly with no purpose to direct itself to.'

'Okay,' she said, in her usual confident tone. However she felt anything but. She hadn't even been alive thirty years, and yet that was how long her nation had been without a crystal. What if they simply weren't able to draw magic anymore? Perhaps the gods were trying to tell them something by destroying all the crystals on the planet. She shook her head and strengthened her resolve; she _had_ to do this. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and tried to see what her eyes could not; the ether. It was dark, but the more she looked the more thin lines she could see. She had no idea what they were, but she knew they weren't what she was looking for. The one she wanted would call out to her when she found it, of that she was certain. It was buried deep, as if somehow Noctis was keeping it hidden from her, but she reached out with her mind and grabbed hold of the thread. Liquid energy poured into her and the sensation almost overwhelmed her. She staggered a few steps as she tried to control the heat in her body, and tame the raw energy that flooded through her veins like quicksilver. Overturning her hand she tried to concentrate the power there, drawing it down but losing lots along the way due to her inexperience. When she finally managed the ignite a fire spell, all that appeared was a brief flicker barely bigger than a candle flame. It lasted for a few seconds but it was enough to instil hope in all three of them.

Idola was the first to speak, his watery grey eyes filled with hunger as he watched the dying embers of the flame peter out. 'I think we've found our new secret weapon. I can see Regis's face now as his son destroys his kingdom, and then in the final acts kills him too, before we remove the slave crown and the prince realises what he's done and takes his own life. It will be beautiful.'

Noctis simply stared out at nothing, oblivious to the plans being hatched around him, or the pain and destruction that he was about to cause.


	2. Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunafreya is found and lost.
> 
> Noctis is tested and accepted.
> 
> Prompto just wants his friend back.
> 
> Things go from bad to worse in the aftermath of the Niflheim attack. A happy Idola is never a good thing, and right now Idola is on top of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Saki-san for beta reading for me, and being fantastic inspiration. ^^ And lots of thanks to everyone that read, left kudos or comments, it really means a lot to me. ♥

Her dress was in tatters and her face was smeared with soot as she stumbled down the broken highway. The air was hot and thick with smoke, and screams cut through the silence around her. Screams of pain, and screams of anguish, and screams of metal as buildings twisted and collapsed as they swallowed up more victims to add to the growing list of souls. Her pale blue gaze drifted up to the golden gate high in the sky. There had been a steady stream of souls flooding the portal since the invasion begun, and though the light wasn't as dense anymore there was still congested traffic to Etro's halls. Lunafreya swallowed back her tears and forced herself to look away from the departing souls and instead concentrate on her own survival.

At some point she'd lost her shoes. One of her heels had snapped while climbing over rubble and it had been difficult to walk in just one so she'd left them by the roadside. The soles of her feet were filthy and bleeding, sore and painful where rough pavement and shards of broken glass had cut into the soft flesh of her feet.

She sniffed and looked around; the road had a huge crater in it where a bomb had hit. Several cars had been destroyed in the blast, and twisted husks of burned out cars lay ruined. Around the crater cars had swerved to avoid it and crashed into one another. A family was weeping by a red saloon; the father was slumped in the driver's seat and the mother was desperately trying to pull his lifeless body out of the broken window while her two young children sat crying. Lunafreya's heart ached for them, and she longed to go over and help but what could she do? How could she help so many people? Her only power was the ability to see the dead and as she watched the poor family she saw the golden light separate from the man. He hovered by the woman for a long moment, reluctant to leave her, until the call of Etro was too strong and he drifted up to join the hundreds of others making their final journey to paradise.

With no watch she had no way of knowing how long she had been out there. The bombs had stopped dropping about an hour ago, but they had been going since yesterday afternoon. Lunafreya had managed to get a few hours sleep curled up behind a bar in a burned out nightclub, but fear had forced her awake and kept her moving. She'd been on her way to a party when the fighting had begun; her car had been shot at by Magitek troops and her chauffeur killed. She'd managed to escape the limousine and hide from the drones, but that had just been the start. The city had been overrun, the bombs had started falling, and everything had gone to hell. Everywhere she turned there were more drones and soldiers, and it seemed all she could do was run and hide. Desperately she wanted to get to the palace where perhaps she could find sanctuary, but all her paths had been blocked so far and she didn't know the city well enough. Nobody would stop to give directions to a filthy girl, they all had their own problems to deal with. Lunafreya was utterly alone. Her stomach growled and she collapsed to the ground, hungry, thirsty and terrified. The family in the car haunted her thoughts and she wondered how many more families had been torn apart in the last twenty-four hours. She looked up again at Etro's gate, seeing it through watery eyes as she tried to count the expired souls. There were too many; the lights blurred together and made the task impossible. It was as if Insomnia itself was dying.

Gunfire rang out behind her, but she barely had the strength to turn her head. There were hurried footsteps and shouts, then someone grabbed her roughly by the arm, hard enough to bruise.

'You need to get to safety, ma'am. There are still Niflheim airships in the vicinity,' the soldier said.

'P-palace,' she rasped, her throat scratchy from thirst.

'The palace took a couple of bombs, but is mostly unharmed. The majority of the bombing was in the industrial area,' the soldier explained, tugging her by the elbow.

Lunafreya glanced up at the sky. The blue was hazy from smoke, and the gold from Etro's gate was bright enough to almost be a second sun. She turned to the soldier and tried to pull her arm back. "No. Palace. I need to go.'

Clearly confused, the soldier finally looked at her face. It took a moment for realisation to sink in, but the girl under the layer of sweat and dirt was definitely the girl in the picture they had all been told to look out for. 'Lady Lunafreya?' he asked in disbelief.

She couldn't blame him for not recognising her, really. She had seen her own reflection in a half broken shop window and knew that she wasn't exactly looking herself at the moment. A weak smile spread on her lips, though. 'Yes. Please could you take me back to the palace? I'm afraid I don't know the way.'

'Of course, please follow me, your highness,' the soldier said, sheathing his sword and taking her hand in his own as he led her down the crumbling highway.

'It's awful,' Lunafreya said as they passed more burned out cars, and more corpses lying prone beside them. 'What happened?'

'I can't say I really know, your highness,' the soldier said, focusing on his task. 'Word is that Emperor Aldercapt killed King Regis during the peace treaty signing, and then had his army invade. But I've heard rumours that the king is still alive, and yet more rumours saying our crystal is gone. Someone even said something about the prince, but I couldn't tell whether they thought he was dead or had turned against Lucis.'

Lunafreya frowned. 'Prince Noctis would never turn against his country.'

The soldier shrugged. 'All I know are the rumours, I'm afraid. I'm sure once you're back-' he was cut off mid sentence, and before Lunafreya could ask him what was wrong his hand slipped from her grasp and he pitched forward, landing with a heavy thud on the asphalt.

Lunafreya spun around and saw the small group of Magitek drones advancing, the one with the gun was reloading , one had twin machetes and another had a lance. Glancing down quickly she noticed the soldier had a sword and a dagger; she took both, spinning the sword in her right hand and gripping the dagger tightly in her left.

The gunner drone fired and she was quick to drop to a roll and dodge, wincing as her battered feet landed on the ground again. She was bloodied and bruised but there was fight left in her yet. Quickly she sprinted forward, using her momentum to slash the head off the gunner, exposing wiring which exploded in a shower of sparks that burned her arm and set fire to the hem of her dress. She quickly patted the flame out, then had to sidestep the drone's last ditch attempt to shoot at her as its metallic body shut down. Grabbing the gun from its hand she kicked it hard in the chest so it fell with a loud clatter.

There wasn't much time to celebrate her small victory as the other two drones were already on her. She scurried ungracefully out of the way just as the spear was thrust where she had previously been, scraping the skin off her knees as she skidded along the asphalt. She got to her feet just in time to avoid the spear again, and this time retaliated with a few bullets. The drone staggered with each hit, but kept on coming. The bullet damage was negligible to its body, she knew she needed to hit something important if she was going to stop it. With shaky aim she went for the head and missed. It was advancing on her now, so she took a step backwards and aimed the gun again…and tripped over the first drone she had taken down. Falling was painful, but it saved her from being skewered as the drone lunged forward again, missing her by a mile.

The drone raised its weapon again and was about to slam down into her when it froze mid swing, then collapsed in a rusted heap of metal. Behind it was a tall, broad figure. Lunafreya raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun so she could see him properly, but then a shadow fell upon her and she instead rolled into a dodge as twin hatchets came down where she had been a moment before.

'Get behind me,' commanded a strong voice that she recognised all too well.

'Gladiolus!' she said with relief. 'Thank goodness.'

'Don't thank me yet,' he grumbled, adjusting the sword in his hands. It was heavy and cumbersome, not like the perfectly balanced swords he could materialise when Noctis was near him. He rushed forward to fend off the hatchet drone, parrying its attack with his blade then spinning around to deliver a crushing blow that knocked the damn thing's head off.

Lunafreya couldn't have been happier as she watched Gladiolus take down the third drone. She felt terrible for the soldier that had died trying to help her, but at least now perhaps she could get to the palace so nobody else would have to die for her. She vowed to find out the soldier's name, and ensure that his family were well taken care of when the mess of the invasion was cleared up. She was about to ask Gladiolus what he knew of Noctis and the crystal when something dropped at her feet. She glanced down in confusion, unsure of what the little lump of metal was. A grenade? Something grabbed her chest and pain exploded within her. Her body jerked as electricity ran through her body, sparks flew and burned the skin of her face, neck and chest, and her screams filled the air as white hot agony filled her chest.

Gladiolus turned in time to see the second drone using its last ditch attack; electrocuting Lunafreya within its grasp. Her feet didn't even touch the floor, and her body jerked about violently as volts ripped through her body. Without thinking Gladiolus rushed forward and smashed his sword down, severing the arm holding Lunafreya aloft, and then he stamped down on the head, crushing it to the ground. When he finally dared to look at the girl on the ground he had to swallow back bile. How the _hell_ was he going to explain this to the king?

-

'Asta stop poking him,' Aurora said sharply, shaking her head at the older guard's antics. The red haired man had been trying to get the Prince of Lucis to react for the last twenty minutes, but Noctis simply wasn't there anymore. With the slave crown on the dark haired boy simply lay where Idola had told him to, and stared out at nothing while Asta poked and shook him.

'It's creepy if you ask me,' Asta said, finally drawing back and running a hand through his hair.

'Nobody asked you,' Aurora said, folding her arms across her chest. Knives delicately clinked together, she was always armed to the teeth with blades. Her trusty lance was nowhere to be seen today, though, it was too cumbersome to carry around for everyday use. But if Emperor Idola was correct then by using Noctis's power she'd be able to summon her weapon of choice whenever she wanted.

'So he didn't sleep at all while you were keeping guard?' Asta asked.

'No. He doesn't do anything that the emperor doesn't command. He should think himself lucky that the emperor was gracious enough to allow him to lie down. I'd have made him stand all night.'

Asta snorted. 'Harsh. You really hate him.'

She stiffened, and forced her emerald gaze on the prince. 'Of course I do. I hate all Lucians, but the royal family…I'd rather see him burned alive, but I have to admit he's more useful like this. Until we can find a way of using the crystal without him then I suppose I can put up with him when he's as well behaved as this.'

'He's definitely well behaved. Shame we can't do this with all the Lucians we took, it would stop them whining in their cells. Why we bother taking prisoners I don't know, kill them all I say,' Asta said flippantly, poking Noctis again in the gunshot wound to his leg. 'What about this? Is our gracious leader going to fix it? I don't think infections listen to slave crowns, he might find himself with a disabled prince if he's not careful.'

'Doesn't matter. The emperor promised him to me once we're done,' Aurora said, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against and going over to the crown prince. She ran slender fingers over his high cheekbone, and trailed her nails down the skin, down his neck, almost hard enough to draw blood. If he had been anyone else she might have felt something for him; he was handsome, almost criminally so. But to know he was the son of Regis Lucis Caelum who had led the army that had decimated her hometown just made her want to hurt him. And she might have done too, if footsteps hadn't made her draw back.

'How is he this morning?' Idola asked.

Aurora knew he wasn't enquiring about Noctis's wellbeing. 'He's still under your command. Hasn't moved an inch all night, we've been watching him in shifts.'

'Good,' Idola murmured, watching Noctis carefully. 'Very good. Stand, Prince Noctis.'

Almost like a mechanical Magitek drone Noctis sat up straight on his bed, then turned in one easy motion before pushing himself to his feet where he stood perfectly still awaiting further instruction.

'Follow me,' Idola said as he turned on his heel and walked out of the cell. The soft, shuffling footsteps behind him let him know that Noctis was following like the good little pet he was. There was a slight unevenness to the steps since the prince had been shot in the leg, but under the slave crown's influence it was only a minor inconvenience. Idola was pleased with the prince's obedience, however standing and walking were simple commands that wouldn't test anything. Idola was very aware that Noctis could even be playing along in the hopes of awaiting rescue. He needed to be sure that the prince of Lucis was really his, and that meant he had to make Noctis do something that were he remotely in control Noctis would never do. Something so horrific that if there was even a shred of Noctis's subconscious still awake then he wouldn't do. Fortunately Idola had the perfect plan, just like always. Idola always won.

'Where we going, boss man?' Asta asked, falling into step beside the Noctis doll and giving him a playful shove just to see what happened. Noctis faltered a little but righted himself and didn't even look at the red haired man.

'You were complaining the Lucian prisoners we took were making too much noise,' Idola explained. 'We're going to solve the problem.'

Aurora's lips quirked into a smile. 'Perfect, your majesty.'

Asta frowned a little, and his lazy amber gaze travelled down to the dark haired man by his side. 'Well kitten, looks like you're going to be officially initiated into the family.'

Noctis said nothing.

'Stop,' Idola said, and Noctis halted. Asta almost walked into him, having fallen slightly behind.

Aurora did the honours of sliding the little metal plate in the prison door so that they could peer in. Three men dressed in Lucian army uniforms stared back. She offered them a smile which they ignored.

'Would you like me to handcuff them?' she asked Idola.

'Just one. No sense in wasting all of them, we may have use for them later.'

'As you wish,' Aurora said, and her hand was almost to the panel beside the door ready to scan her palm when something grabbed her wrist. 'Asta?' she asked, a sharp undertone to her words.

'Sure you don't want me to do it? They've been in there a couple of days now, they might be a little _hostile_ ,' he said with a smirk. 'We haven't fed them.'

'I'm not a little girl, Asta,' she said with a dangerous smile. And with that she slapped her palm to the reader and drew her eye level with the retina scanner. A few seconds later the red light turned blue and the door beeped. A heavy metallic thud rang out and she slipped a pair of handcuffs from a hook on the wall and entered the room.

All three men were on her instantly, but she was faster. She leaped over them as they sprang for her, it was one of her signature moves and she was proud of her jumps. Usually she liked to have a lance in hand ready to strike down on her victims, but the aim of this exercise wasn't to kill the prisoners. No, that wasn't for her to do. Instead she landed gracefully behind them and spun before they even had time to realise she was missing. Sliding twin knives from her boots she crossed her arms then flung them sharply, catching two of the prisoners in the ankle with the knives. They both went down with a yelp of pain leaving her only one opponent. He turned to face her and to his credit tried to fight back. He'd caught a glimpse of Noctis beyond the door and it seemed to have incited his rage.

'Lucis will never forget this. Unhand the prince now while you still can, and perhaps the king will show you mercy,' he said.

'I don't need mercy,' she said in a low voice, and ducked under the punch he aimed at her face. She was slender and quick, and was soon behind him, snagging his wrist and snapping on one of the cuffs. She made for the second one but he tugged it away and with the hand now connected to hers by the chain he tried to pull her down. Instead she used the momentum to do a cartwheel, then twisted the chain across her chest so that his arm bend at an unnatural angle. He cried out in pain and she used the distraction to slam the other cuff down on his other wrist, then kicked her knee into the small of his back. 'Move forward, worm.'

'N-never,' he cried.

Drawing from Noctis she pulled forth threads of magic, and transformed them into a small electricity spell which she aimed at the base of the man's spine. He writhed in agony as the electricity fired the nerves in his back and had little choice but to go forward.

'I'm enjoying the magic,' Aurora said. 'Where would you like him?'

'There's an empty cell over here that will suffice. It can be cleaned down easily afterward,' Idola said, and led the way across the hall to a small square cell.

Aurora pushed the soldier in despite him being over a foot taller than her, then she slammed her boot into his knee and he collapsed to the floor. Asta followed everyone in and placed a hand on Noctis's shoulder almost as if he were afraid the prince was suddenly going to snap out of his trance and either fight or run.

Idola glanced down at the soldier, then to Noctis's blank eyes, then back to the soldier. 'Do you know this boy?'

The soldier glanced up through his pain and hunger, and stared long and hard at the skinny, pale prince that was barely a man yet. He knew the prince well; he was one of the palace guards and had spent many years protecting Noctis and his father. It was an honour more than a duty, a privilege to watch the young prince mature from an inquisitive, lively young boy to the man he was today. 'Of course I know my prince.' Then he turned hard green eyes on Asta. 'And you better get your Etro-damned filthy hands off him or I'll cut them off.'

Asta snorted. 'Kitten, he's threatening me. You're not going to let him do that, are you?' Asta asked, leaning down to speak directly into Noctis's ear.

The soldier frowned, wondering why the prince wasn't moving or protesting. Noctis simply stared ahead at nothing as if he wasn't even awake.

'He's no longer your prince. He's Niflheim property now. He does what I say,' Idola said.

'No. No he'd never serve Niflheim.' The soldier said, and made to get up but Aurora was there pressing down on his shoulders.

'Majesty?' she asked.

'Let him go,' Idola said, and Aurora stepped away. 'Noctis, draw a fire spell.'

The soldier watched as Noctis lifted his left hand and upturned the palm. The prince's blank eyes turned red and flames sprung from his skin, crackling gently and casting his pale face in a golden glow. The soldier gasped, wondering why Noctis was doing as Idola asked. It didn't make sense.

'Prince Noctis, what are you doing? Please stop. Please, think of Lucis,' the solider said.

'He can't hear you,' Idola said in a bored tone. 'Noctis, burn him to a crisp.'

Fear seized the soldier's heart, and he tried to get away but the damn green eyed woman had a knife aimed at his head. Instead he turned to Noctis, to the boy he had watched grow up and had protected with his life. 'Please, your highness. You know me. Remember the time you sneaked out to see the stars? Remember that I let you stay out? You showed me the big dipper, and the constellation of Caelum. Remember how you said those were your stars? That every member of your family joined that constellation when they died, and they watched down over you from heaven?'

The flames grew brighter, hotter in Noctis's hand as he fuelled them with more and more magic.

'Prince Noctis, remember me! Please your highness. This isn't you. I don't know what this monster has done to you but you'd never hurt your friends. You'd never hurt the people that care about you.'

For a moment Idola's breath caught in his throat. He thought he saw the flames in Noctis's hand flicker and dwindle. But it was just a trick of the light. Or perhaps an unseen breeze. Because seconds later Noctis aimed the spell and with a flash of gold the fire shot from his palm toward the soldier. The man screamed in agony and this time when he shot to his feet Aurora didn't try to restrain him; in fact she leaped out of his path. His clothes were on fire and he frantically tried to pull his jacket off, but his trousers were aflame too, and there was nothing he could do to put them out. He dropped to the stone floor and tried to roll but the magical flames simply could not be quenched. He rolled in agony as his skin charred and blistered, stretched tightly over his bones and broke and cracked in agony. The last thing his eyes saw through the orange haze of flames was the unseeing face of his prince; the boy he had always sworn to protect, as the magical flames rose his blood to boiling point and his organ finally gave out. He died several minutes later in blind agony.

The flames faded away but nobody spoke. Asta looked away from the blackened smoking corpse, and discreetly lifted his shirt to cover his mouth and nose against the stench of burned flesh.

Idola nodded once. 'Well. I think we can count that as a success. He wouldn't have done that if he could have prevented it.'

'He's a perfect marionette,' Aurora said in admiration.

'He is indeed,' Idola said with a proud smile, staring at the silver crown nestled in the prince's hair. 'Aurora my dear, would you take this chunk of meat to be disposed of. And Asta, if you could escort the prince to his cell. Noctis, follow Asta and lay down on your bed. You've done well today, but there is much more to accomplish yet. _Much_ more.'

Aurora went about removing the burned corpse while Asta walked down the corridor with Noctis following him like a duckling. As per instruction as soon as Noctis entered his cell he crossed the room to the uncomfortable bed hanging from the wall and lay himself down, staring unblinking up at the ceiling. Idola had not given him instruction to sleep, so he'd be awake all night just staring out at nothing. The thought made Asta shiver a little, and he sat down on the edge of the bed and stared down into Noctis's crystal blue eyes.

'Well done kitten, you're a traitor now. Think daddy dearest will ever want you back after you killed one of your own men?'

Noctis said nothing.

'Do you think _you'll_ ever forgive yourself for killing one of your own men? And it's not gonna stop there. Oh no. His majesty is going to parade you in front of your kingdom and have you kill and destroy everything you love. Then he'll take off your crown and if your brain isn't totally scrambled then you'll be able to realise what you've done. Then how will you feel?'

Noctis didn't move, save the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

'I'll help you, kitten. I'll help you atone. A reminder for every life you take,' Asta said, and slipped a knife from his boot. It was a small, narrow blade and he pressed the cool metal tip to Noctis's pale forearm. Quickly he drew it back, watching as a thin cut opened up on the skin. A few beads of blood welled up and Asta ran his finger along the wound and then brought it to his lips, licking the blood from his fingertip. He laughed. 'Tastes like magic.'

**-**

Lunafreya was like a doll in his arms. She had been whimpering in pain for the first few minutes as he rushed her through the streets of Insomnia, but after a while she had quietened down. He had hoped that perhaps her pain had begun to fade but when he dared to glance down what he could see of her eyes were closed and her face was completely relaxed. She had passed out with her face coated in a sheen of blood and grime.

When he finally reached the palace there were no customary guards stationed outside. Gladiolus could have laughed at the security, but right now fighting the Magitek drones and helping the people of the city came before royal protection. In hindsight he realised that it was the perfect opportunity for anybody that would have wanted to assassinate the king, or plant something in the palace, but there was nothing he could do. They'd suffered losses already, they were stretched too thin.

With a pained grunt of effort he slammed his shoulder into the double doors of the palace entrance and as soon as he set foot within the atrium beyond he was yelling for help. There were lots of people about, but none were soldiers and even fewer looked at him. Unfortunately it seemed an unconscious bleeding body wasn't unusual today. Growling he clutched Lunafreya to his chest and carried on toward the healer's wing of the palace. Usually reserved only for the royal family and close circle staff, now the small area was packed with civilians. Several hospitals within Lucis had been bombed and citizens of the capital had been allowed to use the facilities. They were top notch; the best kit and equipment, the best healers in Lucis. But today all they were doing was flitting from one patient to the next stitching wounds ,cooling burns, setting bones and handing out potions from the ever dwindling supply. Gladiolus wondered how many they had in stock, and whether they'd be able to get more.

'Gladio?' asked one of the healers, hurrying over to him. Gladiolus knew her well, her name was Maya and she was usually assigned to the prince to treat his various illnesses and injuries since the young man was such a trouble magnet. Her eyes travelled to the girl in his arms with clear sympathy. 'I'm sorry we don't have any spare beds, everyone's an emergency these days. Could you please set the poor love down in a chair and we'll get to her as soon as possible, I promise.'

He grimaced and shifted the woman in his arms. 'I think you may need to step up priority on this one, Maya. This is Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret.'

Maya paused, her mouth hanging slightly open as her gaze travelled back to the nondescript girl. Nothing like the elegant beautiful princess she knew, but now that Gladiolus had mentioned her by name she could see it. The pale gold hair matted with blood, the elegant cheekbones burned, the eye swollen shut. Maya sprang into action and suddenly a bed was found in another room (well, a desk with blankets set on it for comfort). She called over a nurse and grabbed as much equipment as she could carry to the makeshift bed.

'Poor girl,' Maya muttered under her breath as she applied cooling gel to the burns on Lunafreya's face, neck and chest. 'I can heal them in a jiffy, but as you know potions only speed up the healing process. They don't take away the injury's effects. Her highness has been badly burned, these will leave a nasty scar.'

Gladiolus nodded and scrubbed a hand over his face. Could any of this be more of a disaster? 'I know. Believe me I know.'

-

Idola watched Aurora struggling with the corpse for a moment before speaking. 'Dante will be home soon.'

Aurora paused in her work, then resumed quickly in the hopes that Idola hadn't noticed her falter. 'Good. It will be good to have him back. Is he well?'

'He is. He was leading the remaining forces in Lucis, and stopped off at Tenebrae on the way back to consult with the king. Apparently Princess Lunafreya perished in the destruction. He offered his condolences on our behalf, assured them that we had no way of knowing their daughter was there and highlighted how poorly the Lucians looked after their daughter. The king soon came around to our way of thinking, especially when he learned we had the crystal. He's almost ready to declare war on Lucis himself.'

'A nation that turns their loyalty so quickly isn't to be trusted,' she said.

'I knew you'd say that. It's why I value your advice so much. Of course, we'll use them to our own means then stamp them out when they're no longer useful.' His tone changed to something fonder. 'It will be nice to have Dante home, though. I do so miss my grandson. His father…my son. I miss him too.' It had been several long years since Dante's father had died, though. The heir to Niflheim killed during a campaign to Solheim. And all Idola had been left with was his second dim-witted younger son, who was currently residing in a prison somewhere. Idola didn't care, there was no way his second son would inherit his empire. No, that seat was reserved for his grandson Dante when the time came.

'What of your other grandson?' Aurora asked, trying to make it seem as if she wasn't just interested in Dante.

'Ah yes, him,' Idola said with a frown. 'I haven't received any word from him. I was expecting something these past few days…I do hope he wasn't killed in the bombing. I sent him warning beforehand, he should have known to find a safe hiding place to wait out the turmoil.' Idola's dim-witted son had managed to produce a half decent grandson for him, and Idola had sent the boy as a spy to Lucis long ago. Messages were infrequent and as of late there had been none at all. Idola wondered if he had been found out, it would be a shame to lose the boy. Perhaps he would have to try and message him again, to see if he was alive and if he had any useful news from the very heart of Insomnia.

-

Since there was no reason not to, he woke late. Well that was a lie; he woke early, but he simply lay in bed with the covers pulled over his head to try and block the sunlight out. There was something comforting about snuggling under the blankets, he felt warm and safe and could pretend for as long as he was under there that his world hadn't shattered to pieces around him.

He got up eventually, and took his time dressing. Skinny jeans, army boots, his favourite vest and a leather waistcoat to go over it. He spent time styling his hair just how he liked it then frowned at the freckles that seemed darker this morning (or maybe he was just getting paler?), and then accessorised his ensemble with spiky bracelets and his fingerless leather gloves. They had been sitting on his desk in a patch of sunlight and were warm as he slipped them over his hands. Taking a deep breath he studied his reflection; yes, he was paler. He felt older, as if the events of the last week had aged him. There were bags under his eyes and his face was drawn, but he practiced his customary smile and after a few attempts it stuck. Prompto Argentum was ready to face the day.

The corridor outside his room was quiet. Three bedroom doors were closed, but it was the one diagonal across the hall from his that he was interested in. He walked over and pushed the door, stepping into the cold, dark room. With purposeful strides he crossed the huge bedroom to the glass doors that opened onto the balcony. Grabbing the thick, heavy fabric of the curtains he pulled them back so that the sunshine warmed his face and spilled into the room.

'Rise and shine, Noct,' he said, turning to the large four poster bed.

Last week the Noctis shaped lump under the covers would have growled and the prince would have retreated further into his cocoon of blankets. Last week a grumpy voice would have mumbled 'five more minutes'. Last week Prompto would have jumped on the bed and pulled at the covers, laughing as Noctis - still half asleep - would fight him for them. Every day it was the same ritual, and Prompto would always emerge the victor. They'd lay next to each other for a few minutes as Noctis slowly returned to the land of the living, then Prompto would fetch him a cup of coffee while Noctis got dressed, and by then Noctis would be officially Awake. Capital A, because Noctis was capable of being awake but still asleep.

Today there was none of that. Today the bed was still neatly made. Today dust motes floated in the beam of sunlight. Today there was no Noctis, no call for five more minutes of sleep. Today his best friend was gone, just like yesterday and the day before when Prompto had opened the curtains for him. Prompto let his smile falter, and sat down on the crisp sheets of the bed, reaching out for the boy that wasn't there.

He'd just pray, like every other day, that tomorrow Noctis would be back.

 


	3. Hard Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We bury secrets for a reason, and protect them furiously so that nobody needs to know what we hide behind our smiles.
> 
> Lunafreya's life has been changed forever, but she is determined to mend the bonds between Tenebrae and Lucis. They shouldn't be fighting each other when the common enemy of Niflheim stands poised to destroy everything.
> 
> And Prompto is about to find out that he could be the key to saving Noctis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again huge thanks and hugs to saki-san for editing! I really can't thank you enough for the work you put in to make sure this was understandable! ^^
> 
> And thank you to everyone that has taken the time to read, it means an awful lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter! ♥

The knife was razor sharp as it nicked the skin on the prince's arm. Two more parallel cuts to join the five others in various stages of healing. Asta watched as the knife sliced into the pale flesh and the wound opened up with a pearl of blood. Like a teardrop it ran down the snow white arm onto the mattress the man was lying on, but he didn't stir. Not at the pain, not at the blood. Without a command from Idola all he could do was lie there staring up at the ceiling, unable to take comfort even in sleep.

Asta drew back the knife after completing the second incision, and licked the knife clean of blood. He regarded the dark haired man for a few seconds before laughing. 'You look like shit, kitten.'

The kid didn't answer.

Asta twirled the knife in his fingers and watched as the silver blade caught the light from outside the cell. There was no reason not to leave the door open, but the puppet prince wasn't going to stage some fantastic escape attempt. It was almost pitiful.

'You're all up to date now, though. Two more cuts for those thieves you killed for us this morning. I think Aurora is getting a little carried away with using magic, she burned them so badly there was nothing left but ashes. It was beautiful. But if our emperor keeps testing you like this I'm going to run out of space for your cuts. One for each life you take, remember?'

For a sense of symmetry Asta was trying to keep each arm equal. But five had not been an even number, and seven wasn't either. That frustrated Asta and he was tempted to cut another one on Noctis's left arm to even them up, but he couldn't go against his own rules. That would anger himself even more.

'Hey kitten? Those thieves meant nothing, you know that, right? They were just tests to see what we can do. The emperor nearly has all his information, there's just one more thing we need to try out. And you might not be up to it. I've heard a summon takes a shit load of energy, and we don't know how much you have to spare since our glorious leader hasn't been letting you sleep. But the emperor is gonna make you do it anyway. You ready for that?'

His royal highness Prince Noctis had nothing to say on the matter.

'You better prepare yourself, kitten. It won't be long at all, we're not a patient bunch, us Niflheimers. We like to see fire and destruction, and you summoning Titan for us would be the perfect way to cause widespread panic. Have you ever summoned anything before?'

The brat wouldn't say.

'Probably not. You've never had to, have you? Pampered little prince has probably never seen real danger. You'll see soon enough. The emperor will drag an archaean through you even if it rips your skinny little body in two.'

Asta let his hand trail down his charge's cheek.

'Let's hope it doesn't come to that, though. I'm starting to like you, kitten. You're a great conversation partner.'

The dark prince remained silent.

It became too much for Asta, and he drew his knife across the prince's left wrist again to even them up. The equality made him sigh in relief, the pent up frustration eased by the simple beauty in symmetry.

-

It took an enormous effort for Lunafreya to open her eyes; her system was still flooded with pain relievers and potions to speed up the healing process. She didn't know any of that, though, her fogged mind was simply trying to snatch at memories that seemed to float just out of her reach. She remembered a family mourning by the side of a crashed car. She remembered corpses lining the highway. She remembered fire and blood and the stench of death and Etro's gates flooded with the light of souls.

Slowly she sat up. Her body felt tired and heavy. She was in a rather lavish room, guest quarters she assumed. The room was too sparsely furnished to be anyone's personal chamber. Guilt welled up inside her; she had survived where so many in Insomnia had not. And now she even had a comfortable room in which to recover. What of all the citizens? What of those that had lost everything, didn't they deserve a comfortable bed and the sanctuary of the palace?

She pushed back the covers and found that somebody had even taken the time to wash and dress her in a simple pale blue nightgown. The air was cool on her skin but she stood herself up, wavering slightly and having to take hold of one of the posts of the bed to steady herself. Once the dizziness passed she took a few steps forward to test her balance. She could walk fine, her injuries clearly hadn't been that severe.

There was something over her face, though, and she lifted a hand to touch the strange material. It covered her left eye completely, and there was an elastic strap around her head keeping it in place. She stopped being curious, however, when her fingertips brushed the skin beneath it. Her cheek felt odd, and when she ran her hand over it the strange smooth bumps were more pronounced. Her heart began to flutter in her chest as she hurried over to the little vanity unit by the window. Taking a deep breath she sat herself down on the chair and looked at her reflection.

She stared for a long moment, her uncovered eye taking it all in. She refused to gasp, refused to turn away, instead she pulled the eyepatch off so that she could see what she now looked like. The memories were returning and with it the events that had brought her to the palace. She recalled trying to fight the drones, and being outnumbered. Gladiolus had found her then but hadn't been able to stop a drone from electrocuting her. Even now she could recall the agony of hundreds of volts running through her body and contorting her muscles, the sparks white hot against her skin and burning the flesh.

'So this is me, now,' she said softly, still mesmerised by her appearance. She had once been one of the most beautiful women in the world, it was said. There had certainly been no shortage of men seeking her hand in marriage, and her father had refused them all. He had been so proud of his beautiful little flower.

She laughed a little, and sat back in the chair. Strangely enough she felt proud, even though she was well aware the days of people singing of her beauty were now in the past. The scars showed she was strong, that she was a survivor. She could have died out there as so many had, but she still stood. She still had work to do on this world.

The left half of her face was mottled, puckered with scars that ran down from her eye to her cheek. Thank Etro she could still see from her left eye, although her eyebrow had been half singed off. The scars stopped just above her chin, then resumed again on her neck, shoulder and down her chest finishing just above her breast. When she touched them they felt smooth and glossy, but not painful. The skin was slightly tight but she assumed she'd get used to the new sensations soon enough. She swallowed hard, suddenly overcome with fears of what had become of her, then pushed it back. Pushed it all back. She was still beautiful, dammit, and she could still make a difference. Lucis was in turmoil and who knew what Niflheim was planning. And whether Tenebrae was in danger, too. Her connection to Noctis was one of the only things keeping the treaty between Tenebrae and Lucis alive, and it was only as allies they would survive against Niflheim. She was still needed. An injury wasn't going to change that.

A soft knock at the door startled her, and she once again had a moment of doubt, wondering what, whoever was on the other side of the door, would say or do when they saw her. She took a deep breath and stood up, then crossed the room to the door and opened it a crack, peeking around the edge.

'Ignis?' she asked, surprised.

'Your highness,' Ignis said, inclining his head. 'It's good to see you awake.'

She gave pause. 'Have you seen me not awake?'

His emerald gaze met hers, and he nodded. 'I have.'

Well, there was no point in hiding. She couldn't hide her whole life. And if she couldn't let Ignis - a fellow Tenebrae native and good friend of hers - see her, then how would she ever let strangers see her? Gathering her courage she opened the door.

Instantly Ignis's cheeks coloured a little and he averted his gaze with an embarrassed cough.

Lunafreya frowned, and stood up a little taller. 'So you won't even look at me anymore?'

'Y-your dress, your highness.'

'My…?' She glanced down to see the nightgown was a little loose on her frame, and as Ignis was so much taller than her he had a perfect view of her bare breasts. 'Oh Etro!' She blushed bright red and hitched the dress up, then laughed. 'I thought because…oh never mind, please come in, Ignis.'

Ignis hurried inside and closed the door behind himself. He glanced over briefly to make sure that Lunafreya was no longer indecent, and was happy to note that she had found a silk dressing gown to slip over her shoulders and protect her modesty. 'How are you feeling, princess? Any pain?'

Lunafreya was happy to note that now, as she was no longer suffering a wardrobe malfunction, Ignis really didn't have any trouble meeting her gaze. And even better, his eyes were not filled with pity, they were simply concerned for her wellbeing. 'I'm fine, thank you. How about you, have you managed to keep away from the fighting?'

'Unfortunately,' Ignis said, and something flashed within his eyes.

'I'd much rather have you leave the fighting to others, you're not a warrior, Ignis. You're capable in a fight, but not against an army such as this. You have such amazing gifts that you shouldn't risk yourself fighting. You belong orchestrating battle plans, not leading them.'

'Well, I'm certainly doing plenty of sitting on my backside and watching others risk their lives,' he said bitterly.

'Gladiolus?' she asked.

'Among hundreds of others. I know that Gladiolus can handle himself well enough, but there's still that nagging worry that I'm sending him off to his death whenever I give him coordinates to investigate, or areas to clear out.'

'Things will get easier,' Lunafreya said softly. 'Is Insomnia still actively under attack?'

Ignis pushed his glasses further up his nose. 'No, thankfully. The Niflheim forces came to steal the crystal, then they left the drones to keep us busy while they retreated. We've been cleaning up ever since.'

'The crystal is gone? It's true?' Lunafreya asked, shocked. 'But the king and the prince…'

Ignis looked away again.

'Ignis, tell me what's wrong. I was hearing so many rumours that I refused to believe a single thing. They're alive, aren't they?' Her heart was pounding against her chest as she feared the worst; that Lucis was left with neither crystal nor ruler.

'King Regis still stands, and is planning a counter attack as we speak,' Ignis said softly.

Lunafreya read between the lines. 'And Prince Noctis?'

Ignis swallowed hard, and still refused to meet her eyes.

'And Noct?' she repeated, louder.

'Was taken by Emperor Idola when he stole the crystal. We haven't received any word of him since. It's been almost a week now, and they haven't asked for ransom but equally they haven't delivered us a dead body.'

Lunafreya felt weak all over again, but she forced herself to stay on her feet. 'So Lucis is to prepare a counter attack and storm Niflheim to reclaim its prince and crystal?'

'Our numbers are unfortunately rather smaller than they were a week ago,' Ignis said bitterly. 'The surprise attack cost us dearly, we're not in any position to mount an attack on the garrison state. Not when so many citizens of Lucis are injured, trapped under the debris or homeless. We can't spare the money of a campaign that far North when our people are dying.'

'So…you're not going to go and save him?'

'I didn't say that. I just said that we don't have the resources for such an effort. However, King Regis is trying to appeal to our allies-'

'Tenebrae will help,' Lunafreya said immediately. 'Tenebrae has money, it has an army and it's closer to Niflheim than Lucis is. If I give the word my father will march his army and can be at Niflheim's gates in three days.'

'I was hoping you would say that, your highness. Tenebrae is on the verge of war with Lucis at the moment, they believe you to be dead and that it was our fault for not protecting you while you were our guest.'

'Well I'm not dead, and I certainly won't sit around waiting for my father to send his army in the wrong direction. Take me to the king and we'll contact my father right now and set things right.'

Ignis paused, and for the first time waved a hand to her scars. 'He may still wish to start war with us yet.'

'It's a scar, I'll survive,' Lunafreya said harshly. 'I'm not having innocent people die because of an accident. Now please Ignis, take me to King Regis so we can sort this out before more blood has to be shed.'

-

'But grandfather-'

'Dante, we've been at war. Thousands of soldiers died, parts of Niflheim have been reduced to rubble. It would be in poor taste,' Idola snapped.

'So no feast to welcome my return?' Dante asked, just to be sure.

Idola sighed. Honestly he did love the blond, but sometimes the young man could be so egotistical. Perhaps that was why he loved him so much. 'Not tonight. But once we have claimed the other kingdoms as our own the celebrations will last for weeks on end. They will sing songs of your victories and toast your name in the streets.'

Dante considered this for a moment, then nodded. 'Very well. But can we at least have barbecue ribs for dinner? I'm sick of those bloody army ration bars.'

'Of course.'

Idola led Dante and Aurora through the palace he kept as a home and pretended to ignore the way the two exchanged unsubtle looks. Dante was his heir and while in kingdoms it was usual to marry your children for political reasons, Niflheim was not led by a royal family and Idola could see no harm in Dante choosing Aurora for his wife if he so wished. Idola himself found Aurora more than suitable; she had a sharp mind and was more than capable of handling herself in combat. It didn't hurt that she was beautiful in a deadly kind of way.

'I heard a rumour that King Regis is alive,' Dante said offhandedly.

That gave Idola pause. 'He is. The plan didn't unfold exactly how I had prepared for, but the gods were in our favour. Regis will die, but his blood will stain his son's hands.'

Dante blinked. 'Noctis? The bratty prince of Lucis? The radio said he was dead.'

Idola smiled. 'Not dead, just captured. He's on our side now.'

Dante frowned. 'I just remember him as this weedy little freak that was too scared to even come out of his bedroom whenever we visited Lucis.'

'He's not much different, except he has a sarcastic streak to him now,' Aurora said. 'But the emperor is correct; he's ours to control.'

'I wouldn't trust him at all, he'll just be looking for ways to mess things up or kill us,' Dante said.

'You won't think that once you've seen him,' Idola said. 'Come see the mighty Prince of Lucis.'

They descended the stone staircase to the dungeons, the light of the building below dimming as they moved to the cold, damp stone structure beneath. The area where no dignitaries were ever shown. Dante shivered a little at the temperature change and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness. Thick metal doors lined the walls, and a guard was posted at every fifth door except the one at the end. That one had two guards of its very own. This was the door they were heading for, Dante realised, and the guards stepped aside to let them pass. Idola scanned palm and retina and the door clicked open. Dante instantly tensed, expecting Noctis to come springing out in an attack, but there was nothing. Idola and Aurora seemed completely at ease.

'He's in there?' Dante asked, as the seconds ticked by and Noctis didn't even open the door despite it being unlocked.

'See for yourself,' Idola said with a sweep of his hand.

Curiously Dante pushed the heavy metal door and glanced inside the dark cell. He was still bracing himself for a fight but as soon as he was inside he noticed the bed hanging on the wall was occupied. Slowly he stepped toward the small figure; it was certainly Noctis, he remembered that face from his visits as a child back when Niflheim and Lucis still played at pretending to be friends. Dante had seen him in the news of course, but this version of Noctis looked nothing like that; the prince was leaner, paler, and his eyes…there was something terrible wrong with his eyes. Noctis was staring up but he didn't even look his way. Dante was drawn to a bullet wound in the man's right thigh, which hadn't even been dressed. Under the torn material of his pants it looked inflamed, but wasn't giving Noctis any discomfort.

'What's wrong with him?' Dante asked.

Aurora was by his side now, her arm brushing his. She tapped an elegant finger to the silver band around Noctis's head. 'See this? It's the slave crown your grandfather has been working on. He's finally got it to work, and it works beautifully. The prince won't do a single thing unless Emperor Idola tells him to. He's already killed some of his own men, we've had him practice. And we can draw magic through him. Just think, Dante, we can take down Lucis with the power of magic and the archaeans. Summoned beasts to crush our enemies; no army in the world will be able to stop us.'

A slow smile was spreading on Dante's lips at the thought of such power, and he turned to his grandfather with an eager light in his eyes. 'You're going to have Noctis kill his father?'

'In good time,' Idola said. 'I have a few other tasks for him first, the death of Regis will be his final act. First of all we need to summon an archaean to force the other kingdoms to their knees and to accept our absolute power.'

Dante's handsome face slipped to a frown. 'I still don't understand why we're waiting for Regis. Surely as soon as they regroup Lucis will send their army after us, so why not destroy them now while they're weakened?'

'These are called tactics, Dante, Lucis is furthest from us geographically. To get to them we would have to pass by all the other kingdoms who may attack us if we haven't already subdued them. This will be a good lesson in patience for you. Sometimes it doesn't pay to strike without consideration. We have a plan, and Lucis will soon be ours. There's no rush, none at all.'

-

His boots shuffled silently across the thick pile carpet as he crossed Noctis's bedroom. Today his steps were even more lethargic than usual; he was getting tired. Tired from waking in the night having dreamed that Noctis was being tortured. Tired from worrying all through the day that Idola would send Noctis back to them in a body bag. Tired of missing his friends, none of whom had any time to themselves anymore. Gladiolus was constantly out tidying up the city by fighting off the remaining Magitek drones and restoring order to the capital where people were beginning to rebel. And Ignis was in constant meetings.

Prompto sighed heavily and drew back the thick curtains as was his custom. Light spilled into the room, but today he couldn’t manage a smile. 'Rise and shine, Noct,' he said in an empty, hollow voice. But Noctis wasn't there. And as the days passed without word on his best friend's wellbeing, Prompto was beginning to fear that Noctis would never be there again.

'You do this every morning?' asked a deep voice from the doorway.

Prompto's heart skipped a beat and he spun around quickly. 'M-majesty! Sorry, I just…yeah, I usually wake him up, and it just feels right to open the curtains for him each morning and-'

Regis smiled a tired, wary smile. 'It's fine, Prompto. It's nice that you still think of him.' The man pushed away from the doorframe and made his way further into the room under Prompto's nervous gaze. He sat down on the bed and smoothed a hand over the sheets. 'You've been his friend for a long time, it's natural that you'd miss him.'

'Yeah. Yeah, we've been friends for ages,' Prompto said, eyes darting to the door and wishing he could leave. It wasn't that he hated the king, far from it, but the guy was just so regal and proper and he made Prompto nervous as hell even though he had never been anything but kind. 'Well, I'll leave you in peace.'

'Please stay,' Regis said, and though his voice never raised the tone was a clear order.

Prompto drew in a shaky breath. 'Is there something I can do?'

'There is,' Regis said, still staring down at the sheets. 'Tell me again about how you came to Lucis. You'll have to forgive an old man his memory, I know that Noctis has told me before but with all that has happened it seems to have slipped my mind.'

Prompto bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. 'Well, um, I was raised in Solheim, your majesty. My mother died from pneumonia one winter and so my father packed up and moved us to Lucis. But when he got here he started drinking, doing drugs. That was when Noct transferred into my class. He was always so nice, he kept me going even when my dad started…' Prompto trailed off, his pale cheeks flushing lightly.

'Go on,' Regis urged, not unkindly.

'Well you know. You were there the night when Noctis brought me to the palace. My dad was off his head, he started hitting me, then he pushed me down the stairs. I managed to fire off a text to Noctis and the damn idiot came charging over even though my dad was still there. He took my father down, even though he was this tiny little eight year old kid. He protected me with his magic and took on a grown up to save me. Then he helped me all the way through the streets to the palace healer, and then you were called and my dad was arrested and when I woke up you said I could stay here. That was one hell of a night.'

Regis smiled. 'I remember it well. You were half dead when Noctis brought you here, you'd broken your legs, your ribs, your wrists. There was blood everywhere, I honestly feared that you wouldn't make it. And I felt such anger toward your father, than anyone could do that to someone they care about, to someone they're supposed to protect…you were such a little thing too. You couldn’t have stopped him.'

Prompto swallowed hard. 'Felt pretty useless, yeah.'

'I'm very glad you came to us, though. Once the nightmares of your father stopped you were able to grow into a happy little ball of energy. You brought my son out of his shell and helped him become a happier child. When he was sick you were there with him every day, cheering him up.'

'He did the same for me,' Prompto said.

'Indeed he did,' Regis said, then his smile faltered. 'It's a truly touching story, Prompto. However there are elements of mistruth to it. Of course I was happy to take you in, especially as my son was so taken by you, but did you really think I would have allowed you into the palace - eight years old or not - without the proper background checks?'

Prompto's blood froze in his veins. 'M-majesty?' was the only thing he could think of to say.

'I had my advisors enquire all about you, and I'm afraid I've known for a long while some rather dark truths, Prompto Aldercapt.'

Bile rose to the back of Prompto's throat and he felt physically sick. He reached out for something to hold on to and found the desk, which he braced himself against as he came over faint. Oh god, he knew. Oh god, King Regis _knew_.

Regis's ice blue eyes betrayed no emotion as he watched Prompto. 'Your mother's surname was Argentum, correct? So when you and your father came to Lucis you both took her surname to avoid association with Niflheim. Your actual home country. Have you ever even set foot in Solheim?'

'No,' Prompto whispered.

'I'm assuming Idola, your grandfather, sent you to Lucis. Was it his idea for you to meet with Noctis? Of course it was, I'm sure he had it all planned out. But it takes an especially deranged mind to hurt a child as a means of gaining sympathy. You were seriously injured. Your father was really unstable. Idola ordered your father to beat you, but what if your father hadn't stopped and had killed you? What if Noctis hadn't come to you, or the palace hadn't taken you in? It was a gamble and it could have played out very differently had Noctis not gone to you that night. Idola wouldn't have cared if your father had gone too far and killed you; he'd have simply found someone else to be his spy. Noctis really did save your life. And yet all these years you've been in contact with Niflheim, betraying that blind trust Noctis has in you. He loves you, you know? He trusts you without question.'

'Shut up!' Prompto yelled, his eyes damp with tears, his chest constricting painfully. 'Just shut up, your majesty. Sorry. But…I haven't. I swear I haven't been giving my grandfather information. You think I don't know Noct saved my ass that night? You think I don't love him, too? I haven't been acting; he's my best friend in the whole damn world. If you think I had any part in all of this attack, then you're wrong. I would have stood beside Noct and shot down every last Magitek drone then put a bullet between my grandfather's eyes just to save Noct. I'm not…I'm not a traitor. I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I'm from Niflheim but I can't change where I was born. All I can do is try to get him back now. But there's nothing I can do, he's gone and I'm here and I can't get him back…' The tears were flowing freely now, and he collapsed to his knees and curled in on himself, his arms wrapping around his abdomen as the stress brought on a stomach ache. One of the reminders of his father's attack that night that had so nearly killed him. He cried harder, the misery and the fears all crashing down on him.

'Prompto,' Regis began, then he sighed. He got up and crossed the room, crouching down to pull the blond boy into a hug. 'I know you haven't been sending messages. I'm sorry, but we've been monitoring you closely. We had to, you understand? So I know. I know that you're not a traitor. But the fact remains that you are Idola's grandson, and you were sent to spy on us from Niflheim.'

Prompto sniffed loudly. 'I swear I'm no spy.'

'Perhaps I want you to be,' Regis said. 'You said you can't help Noctis, but you can. Possibly more than any of us. Prompto, you need to return to Niflheim. You need to go to Idola and give him secrets that you have learned so that you can earn his trust. And then I need you to report back to me. You can be a spy, Prompto, you can be Lucis's spy.'

The sobs began to quieten down, and Prompto pulled back from the embrace. 'You want me to go back there? And actually tell them secrets?'

'It's the only way to earn their trust. But once you're there perhaps you will have some freedom of movement. You can find out their plans for us, or look at ways that we might be able to get into the prison where Noctis is held. And also...' Regis's voice broke a little. 'And also you could perhaps find Noctis. See that he is well and let me know? I don't even know if my son is still alive.'

Slowly Prompto began to nod. The idea of waltzing into Niflheim was not pleasant; he was terrified if truth be told. Terrified that they would instantly know he wasn't loyal, that they would kill him or torture him. Even if they did believe him he didn't want to go back to that grey, miserable place. But Noctis was there, and there was a chance that he could see him and help him. 'Okay, I'll do it. But I'll need some secrets to give them. And they better be good or I'll be shot at the gates.'

 


	4. Show Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idola shows his power through Noctis, in a bid to win the allegience of the last great nations. With them behind him he can crush Lucis and finally rule over everything.
> 
> Meanwhile the spy is planted, and Prompto gets ready to find a way to help Noctis escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have time to get this edited, so apologies! ;__; Saki-san (or indeed anyone!), if you spot any errors just let me know and I'll correct them. ^^
> 
> So yes. Finally a tiny bit of comfort in this chapter, much more to come. Much much more, because Noctis is going to need all the hugs in the world.

He'd been thinking about it all night as he tossed and turned in his bed, an undeniable nag in the back of his mind that refused to let him rest. He sat up angrily and punched his pillow to fluff it up, then lay down again with a huff of agitation. Sleep was still not forthcoming. There was an extra one, and its existence bothered him.

With a growl of irritation Asta kicked the covers back and stormed across his bedroom to the clothes he had haphazardly tossed on the floor last night. Quickly he tugged on his trousers and shirt, but didn't bother with his boots. This late at night it was unlikely he would meet a superior officer and even if he did he was off duty. What could they do to him?

The whole building was silent at night. He passed only one room with light filtering out from underneath the door, and it was Aurora's. Curiosity got the better of him and he pressed himself close to the door. Muffled voices whispered from within, one unmistakably hers and then a male voice that sounded very much like the recently returned grandson of Idola; Dante Aldercapt. So the two were meeting in private? That was good blackmail material, Asta thought with a smirk. Since he couldn't make out their conversation he peeled himself away from the door and slunk away from the living quarters toward the main building. There were a few office doors open as researchers hunched over books trying to understand the mysteries of their new crystal, but Asta didn't care about them. He was heading for the dungeons.

Underneath the main building of the garrison state of Niflheim the temperature was almost freezing. Asta rubbed his hands together for warmth and wished he'd thought to bring a jacket. He passed a few night guards and nodded to them, but they paid him little attention. He was high enough rank for them not to ask questions. He walked all the way down the corridor, his bare feet freezing on the cold tiles, until he reached the door at the far end, flanked by two guards that stood up a little straighter when they realised who he was.

'Sir? The prisoner is still restrained,' the left guard said.

'Good,' Asta mumbled, then slapped his palm to the scanner and let the machine read his retina too. The door clicked open. 'At ease, boys.'

The guards didn't visible relax as he entered the small cell. He let the door snap closed on its spring hinges and glanced over to the single feature of the room; the bed chained to the wall with a thin mattress on it. No pillow, no blanket to fight off the chill. Had the person lying on the bed been capable of it he'd probably have caught pneumonia by now. But he wasn't capable of it, at least Asta assumed not.

Slowly Asta made his way over to the bed, then sat down on the very edge of the mattress. Prince Noctis of Lucis lay there, staring up at the ceiling with hollow unblinking blue eyes. The rings around them were getting darker each day, the cheeks more sunken. Asta let his fingertips trail over a high, royal cheekbone, then down the man's neck.

'Good evening, kitten,' he said.

The prince didn't even notice him. The silver band nestled on his head saw to that; the slave crown reduced the dark prince to little more than a puppet. Something that could do nothing of his own free will, and could only move if Emperor Idola commanded it of him.

'I know you enjoy my little social visits, but tonight I'm here on business. You see, earlier I evened you up. But that was wrong of me, so I'm here to make amends. It's driving me crazy, you see? I can't…I can't have it stay this way.'

Asta's hand had slipped down to take the prince's, and he was squeezing it tightly. Almost hard enough to crack bones. He took a deep, steadying breath to calm himself, then looked down at the problem. The prince had been commanded to kill both his own men and random prisoners of Niflheim in order to prove he was truly under the slave crown's influence, and to test their ability to draw the crystal's magic through him. Asta was making sure to keep count of those deaths with a cut for each life the prince inadvertently took. But Asta liked his order, and for things to be precise. The prince had taken seven lives, and that meant three cuts for one arm and four for the other. Asta hadn't liked the asymmetry, so he'd added another to even it up. But ever since his mind had been at war, because the cut hadn't been earned.

'So what to do?' Asta mused aloud, running his finger over the raised cuts on Noctis's right wrist. Two were healing, two were more fresh. The latest had only been done that day and were still red raw and inflamed around the edges. Asta scratched one with his nail and the little black scabs came away easily, giving way to small beads of blood that bubbled at the wound.

The bratty prince offered no sarcastic comment.

'I either have to get you to kill someone else, so you earn that cut, or…'

Or what? Asta frowned. There was no way he could get the prince to kill anyone; the puppet only took commands from Idola, since the crown was programmed with voice recognition. Idola was the only one that could tell the prince to kill or to pick his nose, without Idola then the prince would simply lay there forevermore until his body finally wasted away and shut down. So what could Asta do about his dilemma? The red haired man frowned and pressed down harder on the wound he had opened up, wondering if the jot of pain could make the prince flinch. It didn't.

'Come on, kitten, can't you feel this? Doesn't it hurt? I want you to hurt like I'm hurt. You’ve got too many cuts, so what am I supposed to do now? Huh, kitten? What do I do? Answer me, you little shit,' Asta said, and drew the knife out of his trouser pocket. He held it to the prince's throat, but the threat fell short. Nobody was home to feel threatened.

Asta growled in frustration at the lack of reaction, and moved the knife back from the prince's throat to his arm. He hesitated for only a second before drawing the knife across the pale wrist.

'There, a cut for making me angry. And another for making me do this. You think I like this? You think it's what I wanted? There was an order to this, but you didn't kill enough people. Or you killed too many. If you'd killed six that would have been nice and even,' Asta muttered to himself as he carried on slicing. More and more cuts, each deeper and more frenzied than the last. He took the prince's thin arm in his hands and slashed, then moved onto the left too. Symmetry. A beautiful red mess of symmetry.

Once he was finished he was breathing heavily, and his hands were soaked in blood. The mattress was stained crimson, and there were splatters on the floor and walls. Asta was trembling as he licked his hand; the blood was warm and tasted sweet, like magic.

'Remember this was your fault, kitten. You made me do it,' Asta whispered, but the blood was hot and wet on his hands, burning into his skin. 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But I had to. You understand? Don't look at me like that. Stop it!' Asta clenched his teeth, then drew back from the prince's face. 'Fine. I'll talk to him. You need to be alive to earn all those cuts, so I'll get him to rest you properly before the summon. That will make this right.'

He stood up and backed away to the door, keeping his eyes on the prince's. The knife dropped to the floor with a sharp clatter, then he turned and left the room, still dripping drops of dark blood.

'Sir?' one of the guards asked, noticing the blood.

'It's not mine,' Asta said almost dreamily. 'And you didn't see me here if anyone asks, right?'

'…Yes, sir,' said the guard. 'Good night, sir.'

'Goodnight,' Asta said, and hurried back down the corridor.

Idola didn't sleep in the staff quarters of the main government building. Of course not, he was an emperor. Asta took a state car and drove the short distance to the lavish house Idola kept. The gravel was painful for his bare feet, but Asta ignored the tiny stings. The fountain in the front courtyard was lit up golden tonight, and guards were posted at the front doors. Asta kept to the shadows, he knew where he was going. He slipped around the back, climbed the twisted willow tree then leaped onto the balcony. The french door was easy enough to break the lock of, and then Asta slipped inside the dark bedroom, closing the door behind him. Idola was dozing peacefully in his huge four poster bed, while the rest of Niflheim slept on threadbare futons or else huddled in shop doorways as their houses had been bombed. The war hadn't touched Idola in the way it had the rest of Niflheim. Asta thought of his own home, now a pile of rubble. All of his belongings, all of his memories. All of his family.

Asta crossed the room with lazy strides, then lay down beside Idola, his head sinking into the soft pillow. It took barely five seconds for Idola to wake, Asta counted them.

'What the hell are you doing here?' Idola asked. The "again" went unmentioned.

'I have a request, oh glorious leader. A request and a confession. Which would you like first?'

'I don't have time for your games, Asta, leave right now.'

'You're grumpy before your coffee. My request is a simple one, and one that benefits you too. You're planning to have Prince Noctis summon Titan against Accordo, yes or no?'

'You know that I am,' Idola said, deciding it was faster to play along.

'Titan is big. The kitten isn't big. Imagine all that power rushing through your body…' Asta trailed a hand over Idola's chest, covered by the blankets.

Idola slapped his hand away, and his fingertips drew back wet. 'The old texts say that summoning requires a considerable amount of energy, yes.'

'When was the last time you let our guest eat? Drink? Sleep? I know you want to torture him, but you're killing him. Surely you don't want him dead before he can fulfil his purpose? You don't want him to die taking on an insignificant kingdom like Accordo. Rest him. Let him sleep. Let him have something to eat and drink. You won't risk his life on a stupid summon that way.'

Idola considered this. 'You may be right. I'll permit him to sleep tomorrow, and have the cooks prepare him something. You said you had a confession?'

Asta paused. 'I don't feel like sharing anymore.'

Idola sighed and rolled over, turning away from Asta. 'Then please leave me in peace.'

'Gotcha, boss man,' Asta said, sitting up and sliding himself off the bed. His fingers trailed the silk of the curtains on the bed, and his gaze travelled over the expensive oil paintings on the walls. Such riches, while Niflheim was so poor. Life wasn't fair.

'You're going soft on him,' Idola said suddenly.

Asta grinned. 'He interests me. But I liked him sassy.'

'Hn,' Idola said, then shifted his position in bed and fell silent again.

Idola didn't ask about the blood. Asta didn't offer an explanation.

-

Prompto landed the aircraft as carefully as he could, but even still it bumped the grass and skidded a little as he fought to control it. It was a tiny two man craft, and had been damaged in the bombings on Lucis, but that just added to the authenticity of his story. Because now it was time for Prompto to play the part of a son of Niflheim. As soon as the jet doors were open soldiers were running over and aiming guns at him. Prompto lifted his hands in surrender.

'Hey! I'm on your side, promise. I'm Prompto Aldercapt, the emperor's grandson.'

The soldiers looked between each other. 'The emperor's grandson Dante arrived home a few days ago.'

Prompto rolled his eyes. 'I'm the other grandson. The good looking one. Now are you gonna make me stand here with my hands up all day, or can I go and see him? He's gonna want to hear what I've got to say about Lucis.'

'Cuff him,' said the first soldier, and another roughly grabbed Prompto and snapped handcuffs to his wrists.

Prompto hadn't expected any less, really, he couldn't imagine Idola had made his existence public knowledge, much less told anyone that he was a spy for Niflheim. And these were just low ranking soldiers, they wouldn't know state secrets. So Prompto let himself be shoved toward the patrol car and found himself jammed in the backseat between two soldiers as they drove him to the capital.

As they travelled Prompto took the opportunity to watch the world go by out of the window. If he'd thought Lucis looked bad after the attack, then Niflheim was ten times worse. The state had been locked in various wars for nearly twenty years, and buildings were at various stages of disrepair. Weeds grew between cracks in shop fronts, windows had been boarded up, and filthy people sat in shop doorways huddled in blankets. Prompto swallowed hard and wondered what would have happened if he'd never been taken to Lucis as a child. Would he have ended up on the streets, fighting for survival too?

The car slowed to a stop before a huge grey building, and he was herded out and pushed roughly to get him moving.

'I'm walking as fast as I can, gimme a break,' Prompto growled, trying to find a sign that identified the building. 'You _are_ taking me to the emperor, right?'

'Prisoners don't get to make demands. You'll be given a cell and your request will be considered.'

'Great,' Prompto said, but he wasn't concerned. He needed to speak to someone higher up, someone that actually knew how to contact Idola. He doubted any of these soldiers had ever seen Idola in person. He was marched through grey corridors, past several security check points then herded into a cell. 'A cup of coffee would be great, white two sugars,' he said.

The soldier snorted with laughter and slammed the door shut.

Prompto's coffee never arrived.

The cell was barely seven foot square and there was no bed or toilet in it, so Prompto could guess that he wasn't going to be kept waiting too long. Three hours is an awfully long time when you have to pee, though, so when the door finally clicked open again Prompto almost jumped his saviour. Instead of the loo, however, he was once again marched in cuffs down to a small interrogation room, where he sat cuffed to the table for another twenty minutes before someone came in to sit across from him. The man was tall and thin and very official looking in his shirt and tie, with a pair of glasses that looked just like Ignis's perched on the edge of his nose. He read from a file that he had placed on the desk, then looked up at Prompto.

'So you come crashing unannounced into Niflheim, inside a Lucis aircraft. Then when captured you try to claim you're the emperor's grandson. Points for originality and style.'

'I like to make an entrance,' Prompto said with a grin. 'So can I talk to him?'

'Of course not. As far as I was aware the emperor had only one grandson; Dante Aldercapt, heir to Niflheim. What does that make you?'

'Well I'm younger than Dante, and gramps never liked me as much anyway, so I think it just makes me the kid he sent off to spy on Lucis. Which I did, and now I have info. So does he want it, or not?' Prompto asked, leaning his chair back so that it rested on two legs.

'You'll have it over if you do that,' the man said, wincing at the way the chair toppled.

'I'm good. So, you gonna put in a call to my old man?'

'First of all perhaps it would be prudent for me to hear what you have to say, then I can decide whether it's worth bothering Emperor Aldercapt over.'

'I've not telling _you_ jack shit,' Prompto said. 'How do I know you're not a spy for another country?'

'I assure you-'

'I don't trust you, you don't trust me. This isn't going to work now, is it?' The chair slammed down on the ground as Prompto leaned forward, and he nodded his head downward. 'In my right pocket is my phone. You'll see a message from Emperor Idola. I'd do it myself but my hands are tied, so to speak.'

The man glanced at Prompto and squinted, as if trying to work out how this could be a trap. Slowly he rose and walked over to Prompto, then dug in the pocket of his jeans to find the phone. He swiped it unlocked and scrolled through the messages, and Prompto watched as his arrogance faded to shock.

'Well?' Prompto said.

'I need to speak with someone,' the man said, heading for the door.

'Wait!' Prompto said hurriedly. 'Can I get an escort to the can?'

The man was already gone.

'Dammit,' Prompto groaned.

-

'I'm not dead,' Lunafreya said tiredly, for what felt like the hundredth time. 'I'm speaking to you right now, it's actually me.'

'I'm afraid I can't simply put you through the king because you say that you're his daughter. If you truly were Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, god rest her soul, then you would be calling from her personal number.'

Lunafreya squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. 'And I have already told you that I lost my phone. If I had it, I would use it, but it's gone. Probably buried under tonnes of rubble. Do you think I'm pleased about that either? I was level nine hundred and fifteen on tetris.'

'…Ma'am?'

Obviously sarcasm didn't translate well over the phone. 'Please, just let me speak to my father. This is very important, and I'm clearly ringing from the Lucis royal line-'

'All the more reason not to put you through, my lady. You must have heard the reports of the princess's death, for all we know Lucis has put you on to try and stall the war they know is coming. The king is busy making preparations right now to storm Lucis in the name of his daughter, god rest her soul.'

'Will you please stop saying that? I'm not dead!' Lunafreya said sharply. 'But an awful lot of innocent people will be if you don't put me through to the king right now.'

There was silence on the other end of the line. Lunafreya pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it in displease. 'He cut me off.'

Ignis cleared his throat. 'It's as we feared, I presume?'

'Worse. They've already started preparations from a campaign south, when they should be heading north.' Lunafreya set the phone down and glanced over to King Regis, who was sat in his chair staring out of the window. Despite his apparent distraction Lunafreya knew better than to think that he hadn't been listening. 'I need to meet him. He'll only believe that I'm alive if he sees me in person. If I leave now hopefully I can arrive before he sets out with his army to attack Lucis, your kingdom isn't ready for another battle so soon and what remains of your army will be slaughtered.'

Regis closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments as if considering his options. 'You're right. I know you're right, and yet I'm loathe to see you go. The roads are dangerous and I don't have many men to spare. If I did I'd be sending them to Niflheim to retrieve my son.'

'That's fine. All I ask is that I can borrow a car, I'll drive myself and I won't stop for anybody the whole way to Tenebrae. If I bring a can of petrol with me I should be able to make it there without having to stop in any cities along the way, and if I see Niflheim blockades I'll find an alternative route.'

Regis drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair, and continued to watch out of the window. The day was so grey and miserable it was dark enough to be night. Insomnia wasn't known for good weather, but it seemed today that even the heavens were mourning Lucis's fate. 'Very well. I can spare a vehicle. Etro knows I have few enough people at the moment to drive them anyway.'

'Thank you,' Lunafreya said, letting out a sigh of relief.

As she spoke, however, another voice piped up beside her. 'You can't seriously expect the princess to travel alone?' Ignis asked with a frown creasing his brow.

Regis finally turned to them, but even still he wasn't really seeing them. All he saw was the missing figure that should have been beside them. 'If she stays in the vehicle-'

'I respectfully disagree, your majesty. I am very grateful for Lucis to taking me in as a child and providing my education and training, but my roots lay in Tenebrae and Princess Lunafreya is my princess just as much as Noctis is my prince. I find it unacceptable that she should be sent out in time of war with nobody to protect her.'

'Ignis, have you ever beaten me in a fight? Ever?' Lunafreya asked softly with a little quirk of a smile.

Ignis's cheeks heated up. 'That's beside the point.'

'It's exactly the point. My father ensured that I was trained by the best, especially so that I could protect myself.'

'But you…I don't want you to…if anything happened…' Ignis said, then sighed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, displacing his glasses. 'There is very little that I can do here for Lucis at the moment, your majesty. Perhaps I might be able to accompany the princess to Tenebrae? And if Gladiolus and Prompto might be spared, we would be an adequate escort.'

It took a few moments for this to sink in, but slowly Regis nodded. 'Very well. It will certainly look better to King Fleuret if his daughter is returned with guards. You have your pick of the royal fleet, and Gladiolus may travel with you, however Prompto is currently engaged in another task. I'm afraid he cannot be spared.'

Ignis frowned, and thought back to the last time he had seen Prompto. It had been a couple of days, but he'd assumed it was because of all the meetings he'd been in. He would have preferred the blond man to travel with him so that he knew he was safe, but there wasn't time to argue the point. If King Regis had need of Prompto then it must be important. 'Thank you, your majesty. And if we learn anything of…if any news comes from Niflheim, please call me. Please.'

Regis turned back to the window, where rain streamed down the windows like tears. 'Of course.'

Lunafreya stepped forward and placed her hand on Regis's shoulder. His larger hand came up to cover hers. 'Thank you for your hospitality, your majesty. As always you have made me feel as welcome as if I were your own daughter. I promise I'll stop Tenebrae attacking your kingdom, and I'll make my father turn the army on Niflheim. We will take Idola down, and we will get Prince Noctis back.'

Regis squeezed her hand. 'I wish I had as much faith as you.'

'He's strong, your majesty. He'll be doing everything he can to stay alive so we can go and get him.'

-

'I went to his cell and his eyes were closed,' Aurora said, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously. 'The bratling was sleeping, emperor.'

'I'm aware,' Idola said, his gaze on the looming border in front of him. Military vehicles flanked either side of the jeep he was sat in, and there were a dozen more behind him. He'd wanted to bring more but a larger army would have caused suspicion much earlier. And if his plan unfolded as it was supposed to then he wouldn't need a single one of them anyway. He had his army in one boy.

'You're aware?' Aurora said. 'I thought we were going to make him suffer. How is sleeping suffering?'

Idola turned to her and almost snapped, but the look in her eyes was too familiar. She was angry. She, like most in Niflheim, had seen everything and everyone they loved taken from them. She was angry and her hatred had directed at Lucis, who had led the charge on Niflheim fifteen years ago and killed her entire family. 'If he wasn't rested for today then he may not have had the energy for what we need of him.'

'If he dies, it's one less Caelum in the world. I won't shed any tears,' Aurora said.

Dante snickered from beside her. 'I for one am glad. I'd like to be the one to kill him myself, I don't want an archaean to get all the fun.'

'You're forgetting the plan,' Idola chided. 'The prince needs to survive all of this so that he can kill his father. Then the crown will be removed and he will take his own life when he realises he has destroyed everything he loves.'

The blonde man shrugged. 'It is a good plan, it just takes a lot of preparation.'

'It won't be much longer. We already have Tenebrae as an ally, and we are in talks with Accordo and Solheim. Given the pitiful state Lucis is currently in their allegiances won't be hard to win. Those two are the last of the major nations, and to sway their minds of who to side with a show of power is required.'

Dante's smirk returned. 'So that's why we're going to blow up Lestallum. It's a shame, they have the best clothes shops.'

'I'm sure hat given time Niflheim will have the best clothes shops,' Idola said, as the jeep they were in slowed to a stop. 'Perfect. Let's go.'

The sky was cloudy, but the patches of blue were almost as bright as the skies of Solheim. Idola watched a flock of birds pass overhead as the other jeeps drew to a stop behind them, then he walked over to one and opened the door. Prince Noctis sat in the backseat with Asta.

'Noctis, get out of the car,' Idola said.

The prince's movements were stiff and awkward, and he was favouring his left leg despite the slave crown supposedly being able to negate the effects of injuries. Idola sighed, realising he might have to have someone look at the injury. He couldn't really spare a healer when his own nation was still suffering from the war.

'This is Lestallum, I'm sure you're familiar with it. A large town on the outskirts of Duscae, population three point five million.'

The prince showed no spark of recognition, and his blue eyes stared out ahead of him at nothing as the wind whipped his lank dark hair. Though he didn't look as tired as he had last time Idola had seen him, he still seemed a shadow of his former self. Far too thin to be healthy, and with a grey tinge to his skin. Idola worried that the summon might prove too much for him anyway, and a flash of fear stabbed through him. More than anything he wanted Noctis to kill Regis, and if that meant sacrificing the summon for it then so be it. He was about to order Noctis back into the jeep when his grandson pushed past him to Noctis. The short haired blond grabbed Noctis by the arm and dragged Noctis across the path. As Noctis couldn't move his legs without Idola's say-so, the prince simply fell to the floor with his cheek grazing the tarmac.

'What the…why isn't he walking?' Dante asked, kneeling down beside him, frowning at the scrape on the prince's cheek.

Asta came over and roughly pulled Dante's hand off Noctis's wrist. 'Incompetent fool, look what you did to him,' Asta said, gently touching the wound. Nobody had mentioned the slashed wrists Noctis had sustained; a guard had bandaged them up and it had been decided the prince didn't require a transfusion.

'Get him up,' Idola said sharply.

Asta gently took the prince by the underarms and pulled him into a standing position.

'Get him back in the jeep.'

'Grandfather?' Dante asked.

'I won't take the risk,' Idola grumbled. 'We'll think of another way to prove our strength to the other nations.'

'But we're here right now,' Aurora pointed out. 'Lestallum has no idea what we're planning, they're completely defenceless. If we do this we can cause enough destruction to show everyone what we're capable of, and nobody will ever dare to challenge us again. This is the moment that could define Niflheim. Are you really going to throw it away just because you want revenge on one man?'

'Don't you want your own revenge?' Idola asked. 'Don't you want to see Lucis suffer?'

Aurora smiled, a strange maniacal thing that he had never seen before. 'I want _everyone_ to suffer. And you said it yourself Lestallum has a population of three and a half million. All that death and pain. Just think about it. Are you willing to let that go?'

'Murdering innocent people isn't something to take lightly,' Idola reminded her.

Her eyes flashed dangerously. 'And were my parents guilty? I was seven when I came home from school to find them crushed under the rubble of my family home. Lucis didn't care about them, and I don't care about anyone else. I want the whole world to suffer. Now make him summon Titan, make him crush this pathetic little town!'

Idola stepped forward and cupped her face with his hands. There were tears on her pale cheeks, and he brushed them away with the pads of his thumbs. 'Aurora, Lucis will pay. Regis will pay. You'll have a front row seat to see the pain in his eyes as his son kills him. I promise you it will be worth the wait. Your family will be avenged.'

Aurora swallowed hard, but nodded. 'Thank you, sir.'

He nodded, and took a deep, calming breath. The crisis was averted; they could pack up and leave and nobody ever had to know they had been there. That way Noctis would stay safe for his main mission. But when he turned around his heart dropped like a stone; Noctis's eyes were blood red, as were Dante's. the blond had taken Noctis's hand and was connecting to the crystal through him.

'No! Dante, no!' Idola yelled, but it was too late. The wind was picking up, whipping at his clothes. It was hard to stay standing and he fell to his knees with Aurora beside him as the sky darkened and the wind roared like a tornado.

To Noctis it felt as if he was being stripped from the inside. As if every single cell of his body was being torn apart. He could feel the link to the crystal holding strong, and then a strange sensation on his wrist where the magic was flowing right out of him, like he was a milk carton with a leak. The hot magic was being pulled through his body and right out again. It wasn't anything like when his friends did it, it wasn't gentle or controlled, and there was so much of it. The magic burned white hot and it felt as if he was burning from within. The pain was excruciating and he could taste hot thick blood in the back of his throat. The pain was too much, way too much, and he retreated further inside his mind. Into the cold darkness, to safety, where nothing could hurt him.

Dante was in pain too. He had thought it would be as easy as the fire spell he had tried that morning, but this was very different. He knew what he had to do, but the energy required was unthinkable. It was such a foreign feeling to draw magic at all, but summoning magic was an entirely different beast. He forged his connection through Noctis, and felt the thrum of energy from the crystal as the archaean Titan was summoned. He didn't have to look to know that it was working, the distant rumble of what sounded like an earth quake could be heard. The ground started to shake and screams filled the air.

Finally Dante let go of Noctis, and fell to his knees in exhaustion. He was pale and shaking, and Aurora was by his side in an instant to support him. He leaned against her and looked up to see Titan stomping through Lestallum. The archaean was five times taller than the tallest building, and smashed buildings and cars with his feet as he vented his rage (the rage Dante had filled him with) and attacked indiscriminately. Smoke rose from a hundred fire as Titan bulldozed the once beautiful tropical town of Lestallum, ripping up trees, crushing bridges, trampling highways.

'Good lord,' Idola said, hearing the strangled screams of the dying.

Even Aurora had nothing to say, suddenly the deaths of millions wasn't as palatable as it had been when it was just a plan.

'Stop him,' Idola said, turning back to Dante. 'Call the archaean back.'

Dante's mouth dropped open, and he made to say something but his blue eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed against Aurora, who almost stumbled under his weight.

'Oh for crying out loud,' Idola said sharply, moving to Noctis. But he was beaten, and Asta wrapped his arms around Noctis's waist, and draped himself across Noctis's back. It was a connection. Asta hadn't practiced before, but he felt he knew the prince well enough not to have needed a trial run. The magic was wild, all over the place. He could see threads winding through the air and reached out mentally to grab one and pull it tight. Slowly magic began to leak through Noctis, but it took tremendous effort to get even a scrap. Noctis was almost drained dry, the effort of keeping Titan awake was taking its toll on his body. Asta reached for the lines of magic and snapped them, one by one. Disconnecting the crystals power by essentially pulling the plug.

Titan stopped mid swing, and faded from view as the magic keeping him corporeal faded. With a flash of bronze light he returned back to his astral shard to sleep again until recalled.

Idola didn't want to look. He was so sure that he would find the prince dead, and that his plans would be ruined, but when he glanced down he saw Noctis looking ashen with blood dribbling from the corner of his lips, but he was alive. His chest was rising and falling erratically as proof. Asta was holding the prince in his arms, and glanced up at him expectantly. Idola let out a sigh of relief and nodded. 'Take him back to the jeep. Carry him to his cell and I will allow him a potion and some more sleep.'

'Yessir,' Asta said, wiping away the blood that appeared at Noctis's nose. 'Well done, kitten, that was spectacular. And I think you earned each and every one of those cuts on your arms.'

Idola turned away from them and went back to his own jeep, climbing in the back and strapping himself in. It was only as Aurora and Dante joined him that he noticed his hand was trembling. He had come too close to losing Noctis. And though Dante was happy to see the prince die, the only thing Idola wanted was to see Regis's pain. Noctis needed to live, he could die only when Idola said so. Idola glanced over to his grandson, who was awake again and gesturing animatedly, telling his story of how the summon had felt to Aurora. Idola was going to have to reign them in, or he risked losing Noctis before his time. And that couldn't happen. Idola wouldn't let it.

-

His dramatic entrance involved an awful lot of waiting around, Prompto found. His phone had done the trick; nobody could deny that the message had truly originated from Idola, although it had taken all damn night for them to confirm it. Prompto had slept in a cell (not the first time, probably not the last) and the next morning had his phone returned and this time was led with a little more dignity to a waiting car that drove him to the main administration building. Nobody had apologised for his treatment, but from Niflheim Prompto wouldn't have expected it.

What he had expected, however, was to speak with Idola, but a receptionist informed him that Idola was currently out on business and wouldn't return until the afternoon. Prompto busied himself finding a vending machine and deciding that Niflheim could even screw up chocolate bars. Everything was just so depressing and tasteless, just like Niflheim itself.

He was sat on one of the sofas in reception reading a magazine on motorbikes when the doors slammed open. A few guards entered first and Prompto was about to go back to the article he had been reading when a figure caught his eye. He tossed the magazine aside and hurried to his feet, halfway to Idola when something else caught his attention instead; a tall red haired man was carrying something that looked familiar, but Prompto wished to god it didn't. The figure in the man's arms was undeniably Noctis, but Prompto had never seen him so run down. He was pale, thin, and there was blood smeared under his nose. His limbs hung weakly and though it seemed as if he were unconscious Noctis's eyes were staring up at the ceiling, but not really taking anything in. Prompto had to stop himself shouting his friend's name and rushing over, but that was the perfect way to get himself found out. Instead he tore his gaze away from Noctis and hurried over to Idola who was snapping something to the receptionist.

'-anybody from the media comes to this building I want security to escort them away, do you hear? We will release a statement when we're ready.'

'Yes sir,' the receptionist said.

Idola spun around and Prompto found himself staring into the cold, grey eyes of his biological grandfather. The same man that had destroyed the place he called home, and kidnapped his best friend. He forced a smile to his lips. 'Been a while.'

Grey eyes narrowed at him, then widened in surprise. 'Prompto. I'd thought you'd died in the attack.' Idola showed neither relief nor regret at this, he simply studied Prompto. 'I haven't seen you in years. I'd always look out for you whenever I went to the palace.'

'You're still short,' Dante said with a smirk, coming over to join them. 'Must be good to be back in Niflheim, can't understand how you managed to stand Lucis for so long, you truly have more patience than me. I'd have slaughtered them all in their sleep.'

Prompto had to fight to keep the smile on his lips, and to push back to urge to slaughter all of them right here in the foyer. 'I managed.'

'We'll be heading back soon enough, it'll be good to have you as a guide,' Dante said.

'Back?' Prompto asked, surprised.

Idola smirked. 'Indeed. As you know we took more than just the crystal from Lucis, and we feel it only right to return the prince to his home. The crown he wears is of my own design, it's a slave crown. He'll do everything that I say. He just destroyed Lestallum with a summon for me, you'll see it on the news soon enough.'

Prompto had no words for that, and though he desperately wanted to see for himself Noctis was already being taken away by the red haired man, and if he followed now it would show his loyalty to Lucis. Instead Prompto turned back to his grandfather.

'Fifteen years it's been, you must have a lot to tell me. But it will have to wait for now, unfortunately after summoning Titan to destroy a town there's a lot of media work to be done,' Idola said with a grin. 'And I'll need to see to our royal guest, I can't have him dying before his purpose is fulfilled. I'll have Dante sort you out a room.'

'Yeah, sure,' Prompto said, distracted by the trail of blood that had followed Noctis. A heavy arm slung over his shoulders, and a face pressed close to his ear.

'Convenient timing, cousin,' Dante said.

Prompto squirmed uncomfortably. 'Well yeah, you bombed Lucis. I didn't have much choice. Figured it was the best time to cut myself free and get back home.' _Home._ Oh god, this place was his home now.

'Good to hear it. I'll be watching you, Prom.'

Prompto felt bile rise to his throat at the use of his nickname. He never wanted it spoken by a snake of Niflheim. Instead he had to suck it up, and followed his cousin through to the living area, where lines of rooms sat along a maze of corridors.

'You don't have homes?' Prompto asked, as Dante pointed out his own quarters.

'Well yes, on the outskirts. But during the week I stay here. Most people don't have their own homes anymore, most things got destroyed in the war. Even the buildings that are standing are structurally unstable, you read it in the news all the time about tower blocks collapsing and killing families inside. Government buildings are the only ones that have had any money put into structural repair, so you're safer here than pretty much any other place in Niflheim. Plus its nicely guarded. Trust me, you don't want the commoners to know you're related to Idola.'

Prompto perked up at that. 'They don't like him?'

Dante scoffed. 'They don't understand that what he does is for the greater good. They want their homes repaired and trade restored, they want an end to the war. They don't understand that by fighting on we're securing Niflheim's future. Do they really want us to bend the knee and accept aid from other countries? How pathetic.'

Prompto thought back to the beggars on the streets he had seen, and the burned out houses. Better to accept aid than to live like this.

He was given a small square room barely bigger than his prison cell, but there was a bed and a wardrobe though he had nothing to put in it yet. Dante hovered by the door.

'There's a cafeteria down by reception, it's open twenty-four seven. Maps are on the walls so you don't get lost. Need anything else?'

_So much,_ Prompto thought. Instead he shook his head. 'I'm good, thanks.'

'Alright. I need to get going, jobs to do. I'm sure grandfather will want to talk with you soon, though, grab yourself something to eat and a shower. Wash the stink of Lucis off yourself. And you don't have to dress like you're at a funeral anymore, Niflheim lets you wear colour. You remember what colour is?' Dante laughed at his own joke. 'See ya, blondie.'

'You're blond too,' Prompto said, but there was nobody there to hear him. He sighed and sat down on his bed, which squeaked at every movement. That would get really annoying, really fast. He pondered something to eat, but his stomach turned at the thought. The memory of Noctis was still fresh in his mind, and that killed his appetite.

He waited for ten more minutes then got up and wandered out of his room. There was nobody about in the living quarters at this time of day, but when he finally found his way back to reception it was a hive of activity. Soldiers were everywhere, as were people in suits and white lab coats. Prompto felt lost amid it all. He fought his way across to where a huge map of the building was printed on the wall, with a helpful "you are here" arrow. He knew where he was, he just didn’t know where he needed to be. The cafeteria was labelled, as was the research department, media relations, finance. Prompto frowned, that was nothing like what he wanted.

He turned around and leaned against the wall just as two soldiers entered the building dragging a man in handcuffs. The man was kicking and screaming, and several people turned to look at him.

'Cells?' asked a lady with a knowing smirk.

One of the soldier's restraining the man nodded grimly.

Bingo. Prompto pushed himself away from the wall and tried to make it look as if he was heading for the cafeteria. There were so many people about that it was easy enough to melt into the crowd and follow the trio. They turned down a corridor and suddenly everything was silent. Prompto held back, always staying one turn behind them so they didn't notice they were being followed. Finally they came to a staircase that required palm print activation. Prompto ran forward and caught the door with his foot just as it swung closed behind them. He counted to ten then slipped through.

Inside the air was freezing cold, and the light was dim. He could hear the man being bundled into a cell somewhere below, so he turned in the other direction and started down the corridor. There were no name plates, which was annoying, but there were guards. They all looked at him oddly, but he just gave his name and nobody dared to challenge him further with a name like Aldercapt. Finally a bonus to being the grandson of a maniac.

Somehow he just knew the cell when he got there. It had two guards of its very own, and there was something about the air around it, the charge of magic that Prompto associated with his friend. He stepped up to the guards and gave his best smile. 'Idola's grandson, he said I could take a look at the prisoner.'

They looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

'We can't-'

'Idola's _grandson,_ ' Prompto repeated. 'You really want me to get him down here? 'Cos I will. I'll go get him, see how he likes being bothered-'

'No, um, no…' the soldier backtracked, looking to the other for support. 'Fine. But only for five minutes.'

'Thanks, bud,' Prompto said, and slipped inside as they opened the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind him Prompto took a deep shaky breath. He'd done it. He'd done what nobody in Lucis could do; he was in the very heart of Niflheim, next to the kidnapped prince. All he had to do was spring Noctis free and everything would be fine. How he was going to do that he had no idea, but half the work was done now that he was here. Slowly he stepped toward the bed and suddenly all thoughts of escape fled his mind.

'Oh Etro, Noct!' he knelt down in front of the bed and pressed shaky fingers to Noctis's throat. It took a few seconds but he felt a weak pulse flutter beneath his fingertips. 'Oh man don't do that to me, I thought you were…'

He still looked dead. Despite Prompto calling his name, and shaking his shoulder gently, Noctis wouldn't respond to him. Noctis's blue eyes were half open, but they wouldn't turn to look at him, and didn't blink even when Prompto waved a hand in front of Noctis.

Noctis's face was filthy with dirt and blood, though it had been hastily wiped clean. Both arms were bandaged in thick, dirty bandages. Prompto ran his hand over them, glancing up to Noctis's face to check whether his touch hurt. His friend didn't even flinch. Curiosity got the better of him, and Prompto lifted the edge of one of the bandages to see if there was even a wound there. The bandage was stuck to skin, but after a little tug it came free. Prompto felt light headed as he caught sight of dozens of cuts, both deep and shallow. He dropped Noctis's arm and closed his eyes tight. Had Noctis done that to himself? Had he been so depressed, or sure that nobody was coming to save him, that he'd tried to end his own life?

Prompto lifted himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through Noctis's hair. 'We were always gonna come, Noct. You have to believe me. I know it took a while, but I'm here now, right? I'm here so you don't have to go through this alone anymore.'

Still Noctis didn't respond. Prompto glanced up at the silver band around Noctis's head. Idola had said it was a slave crown, maybe that was why Noctis wasn't talking to him? Prompto lifted trembling hands to it and pulled it off Noctis's head. The effect was immediate. Noctis's even breathing became shallow as he gasped for each breath, and his thin body curled up on itself as Noctis's face pinched with pain.

'N-noct?' Prompto asked, alarmed. He reached out to place a hand on Noctis's shoulder but at the touch Noctis drew away and screamed, his blue eyes were wild as he finally looked at Prompto.

Noctis couldn't seem to form words, instead he collapsed against the mattress again and groaned in pain. He curled up into a tight ball, his arms so tight around himself that blood began to seep through the bandages on his wrists.

Prompto had no idea what to do, so he placed the crown back on Noctis's head. His friend fell limp and unresponsive again, but at least he wasn't in pain. 'Okay, well…we'll keep it on for now. But next time I'll bring you a potion or something, okay? When we get you back to Lucis the healers will fix you up and when you wake up properly you'll be fine. Your dad will be so pleased to see you. And Ignis will fuss all over you, he'll have a heart attack seeing you like this. Gladio will want to murder every last person in Niflheim. And I'll get you ice cream from the kitchens and whatever else you want to eat to help you get better. We'll sit and watch cartoons and you can sleep as late as you want every single morning. Just…hold on, okay? I know it's hard, but hold on and we'll get you out of here.'

Slowly Prompto brushed his fingers over a scrape on Noctis's cheek. The thought occurred to him that although he didn't have a potion he could still try a healing spell. He closed his eyes and tried to draw magic through Noctis, but there was nothing there. Prompto could have murdered Idola a thousand times over as he remembered the old man saying Noctis had summoned; that would have used up every drop of magic. Noctis needed to rest and recharge.

Someone banged on the door. 'Five minutes are up, Aldercapt. I'm opening the door.'

Prompto scowled at the guard through the door, then turned back to Noctis. He pressed a kiss to Noctis's forehead. 'The worst is over now, Noct. We'll get you out of here before you know it. I'll bring a potion next time, then I'll get that crown off you and we'll escape. I promise. I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore. I'm here now. I'll protect you.'

 


	5. Friends Like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because it takes a crisis to realise who your friends are. The true ones will stick beside you no matter how dark or dangerous the situation is. They'll fight for you even when everything seems lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And more angst! I am so sorry for this. ;__;
> 
> I wanted to get in one last chapter before Gamescom. Come Wednesday hopefully we'll have some more information (maybe a trailer? Maybe - gasp - a release date?) so maybe it will take out some of the guess work. ^^ For now, though, have another chapter of this terribly AU story! I hope you like it! Thank you for reading! ♥

Regis wasn't usually a drinking man. The odd glass of champagne at a ball, a shared bottle of wine with a meal when his wife had been alive. A shot of whisky to steady his nerves whenever Noctis had been trying his patience as a child, or was sick yet again. This afternoon, however, he had a glass of whisky on the desk in front of him, and his long fingers trembled as they curled around the glass.

'Majesty, you need to sleep,' Cor said from his seat across the desk.

Regis snorted with laughter. 'Ironically with the crystal further away I don't feel as tired.'

Cor glanced up at the dark rings under Regis's eyes. 'Crystal or not, you haven't been sleeping well.'

'Of course I haven't been sleeping well. My son has been kidnapped, the crystal is stolen and my kingdom is in ruins. It's going to take years to rebuild Lucis, and the people are distraught at losing their families and homes.'

'And you not sleeping won't change a single thing,' Cor pointed out.

Regis sighed and stared down into the amber liquid of his drink. 'No. No it won't. I've set into motion the changes, now all I can do is sit and wait.'

There was a moment of uneasy silence, then Cor leaned across the desk to place his hand on Regis's. 'We'll get him back, your majesty.'

'We don't even know if he's still alive,' Regis said, his voice thick with emotion. The world in front of him blurred as he blinked back tears. 'That's the worst part. If Idola has killed him then I could exact revenge. If Idola wants a ransom I'd pay whatever amount he wanted. But we've heard nothing. Not knowing is even worse. I can't do anything because I don't know if that will tip Idola over the edge and kill him. I just…I just want my son back. Idola can keep the Etro-damned crystal, I want Noctis home.'

'I know, your majesty,' Cor said in his rough, low voice. He squeezed Regis's hand and wished there was more he could say. But there was nothing. No words could bring Noctis back, or heal the wound that had been left in Regis's heart at the loss of his son.

The doors to the study burst open and both men looked up sharply. The guard at the doors seemed to remember himself, and flushed crimson as he struggled to stand up straight. He was out of breath, and leaned against the doorframe while he composed himself.

'This is the king's private study, what do you think you're doing barging in here?' Cor demanded, rising to his feet.

The guard looked from Cor to the king. 'I-I'm sorry, your majesty. But…but there's news…'

Regis's heart lifted a little and he sat up straight in his seat. 'Noctis? You have word of my son?'

The guard hesitated. 'In a way. He's alive, your majesty.'

For a moment Regis's world blacked out. He felt dizzy with relief, and he had to brace himself against the heavy wooden desk. Noctis was alive! His son was alive. The news was better than anything he could have hoped for.

'But, your majesty…'

Cor was the one to probe further, as Regis didn't seem to care about any further news now that he knew his son was alive. 'If you have something else to say, then say it.'

'Sir. Majesty,' the guard said, obviously hesitant. 'The news came from Lestallum. He was spotted at their border with a small group of Niflheim soldiers and Emperor Idola himself. They say…they say your son summoned Titan and unleashed the archaean on Lestallum. Current reports say that there are at least a hundred thousand dead, and many times that injured and homeless. Lestallum has been reduced to rubble.'

Any trace of happiness drained away instantly, like a plug had been pulled from his body. Regis felt faint all over again, but for a very different reason. 'No. No he would never…he wouldn't work with Idola. He wouldn't summon a beast like Titan to kill innocent people. They must be mistaken,' Regis insisted, his voice louder than he would have liked. The whisky he had been drinking was giving him indigestion, he rubbed a hand against his chest to ease the burning pain.

'I'm afraid Niflheim themselves have claimed the attack as their own,' the guard said.

'A show of strength, a warning to the nations that have not yet sworn allegiance to them,' Cor mumbled, glancing at Regis and frowning. His king looked pale, almost grey. It was a lot to take in. 'We must show our own hand. Ignis and Princess Lunafreya may yet be able to turn Tenebrae back to our side, but there is still Accordo and Solheim. If they were to side with-'

'With murderers?' Regis barked, his breath hitching in his throat. 'Niflheim just killed thousands of innocent people. My son killed…Noctis killed…Oh Etro. Was it because of what I said before he was taken? What lies has Idola been filling his head with? I never got a chance to tell him why I bound him to the crystal. It wasn't for my own personal gain, it was for his own good…but I never got the…the chance…'

'Majesty?' the guard asked, hovering by the door.

Cor was quicker, and raced around the desk to place a strong hand on Regis's narrow shoulder. 'Majesty? You don't look well. Let me take you to a healer.'

Regis waved him off, his breathing shaky as the world spun before his eyes. The tightness in his chest was becoming unbearable, spreading up his neck and to his shoulder. 'I need…I need to know why Noctis…'

'Majesty!' Cor caught the king as he fell to the side. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his pale face and his breathing was erratic. Cor's head snapped up to the guard, who was watching with a mask of horror. 'Don't just stand there! Go and get a healer!'

'O-of course!' The guard scrambled out of the room and the echo of his footsteps fading was the only sound except Regis's ragged breath.

Cor carefully pulled the chair away from the desk and lifted the king to lay him down on the floor. With a large hand he smoothed back Regis's dark hair, flecked with more grey in the last few weeks. It was only then that he noticed his hand was trembling. Cor stared down at his hand almost in amazement; he had been through wars, seen people die in the most horrific ways. But seeing his king clinging desperately to life was enough to shake him. Cor swallowed hard, and took Regis's thin hand in his own. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he felt Regis squeeze back.

'Hang on, your majesty. You just hang on. We'll get Prince Noctis back for you. And then you can explain it all to him, and we can figure out what the hell happened at Lestallum.'

Because Cor was sure that whatever had happened, there was a good explanation. Even if he was angry at his father Noctis would never join forces with Niflheim.

Cor swallowed hard, and prayed the healer would hurry the hell up. He gathered Regis in his arms and cradled the man close to his chest. And for the first time in years, he let himself cry.

-

'What more do you want? My retina scan? Fingerprints? Take what you want, but please bring my father down to see me,' Lunafreya said. Her voice was tense with frustration, but this was the fifth guard that had heard her cause, and still nobody would call the king down to visit her.

This guard smiled politely, but his gaze kept travelling to the scars over Lunafreya's face. 'Unfortunately the king is very busy, as you can imagine, on royal business.' The man spoke slowly, as if Lunafreya were a child, or simple in the mind.

'I am Lunafreya Nox Fleuret and this is my _home_. Please, if you could just bring one of the palace guards they might know me. Or one of the staff. Th-the head chef, Sebastian. Bring him out, he'll recognise me.'

Once again the guard made a pointed look at her scar. 'Tenebrae has been in mourning for two weeks. The late Princess Lunafreya was killed while a guest at Lucis. Do you not think the king and queen should be allowed to mourn in peace without every blonde girl in the city trying to claim to be their lost daughter?'

Lunafreya's voice caught in her throat as she pictured her mother and father in the parlour. Her father would wrap himself around her mother and let her cry out her pain against his chest. They would keep her bedroom as it was, and perhaps visit it to remind themselves of the daughter they had lost. Lunafreya knew the routine well; when her sister had died the room had been off-limits to the house maids, and her mother would often lay on the pink bed and hug the stuffed moogle doll that had once been Stella's. And now her parents thought they had lost their remaining child. That was enough to strengthen Lunafreya's resolve; she couldn't let them live in pain for a moment longer than necessary.

'You can either bring the king to me, or I'll go to him.'

The guard 's hand moved to the hilt of his sword, and his eyes narrowed at her threat. 'Miss, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.'

Lunafreya sighed and turned away from the guard. A few steps behind her Ignis and Gladiolus were watching the whole thing. They had planned for this, though Lunafreya had hoped it wouldn't come to it. She nodded once, and spun around, charging to the left of the guard. He realised what she was doing and dove to the left. Having anticipated the move she feigned and went to the right. His heavy armour meant that he wasn't able to change direction very quickly, and she slipped past him with ease. The guard clattered to the floor with a crash of metal, and the two guards that came to his aid were bulldozed by Gladiolus, who had rushed up the steps behind her. Ignis drew the sword from the first guard and held it in warning to another guard that had come rushing at the noise, and then the three of them slipped quickly into the palace.

'Well, I've sneaked into the palace a few times late at night, but never with quite such a dramatic flair,' Lunafreya said with a smile. 'Oh dear. I don't suppose either of you have a spare sword?'

Gladiolus passed her the one he had taken. 'I can fight melee,' he explained.

As more guards came rushing down the long curved staircase into the open atrium of the palace foyer, Lunafreya held her sword in front of her. 'Please try not to hurt them, they're only doing their jobs.'

'Yeah, can you tell them not to hurt us, either?' Gladiolus asked, dodging a sword slash and then grabbing the arm of the guard and twisting it behind the man's back.

Lunafreya lifted her sword and parried the blow from a guard. She tried to get a good look at his face but she didn't recognise him. Dammit. All she needed was one guard that would know her personally, rather than just her image from the news. Someone that would be able to see past her new scars and recognise her.

The guard was a lot stronger than her, but she had been trained well to use her speed and agility. She kept the guard dancing, and parried each blow, deflecting the blade quickly and stepping aside. When another guard came up behind her she surprised him by spinning the sword and slashing back, aiming purposely just to the left of him. It was enough to worry him, though, and she drew him forward so that the next time he lunged she was able to step aside at the last moment and let the two guards crash into each other. She was congratulating herself on a job well done when strong arms pinned her from behind and lifted her clear off the ground. She struggled, kicked behind her, and had almost freed herself when a voice boomed from the landing at the top of the stairs.

'What in the name of Pandemonium is going on here?'

Everyone stopped. Lunafreya was set down on the floor, and the guards all turned to the king and bent the knee before him with a chorus of 'your majesty'.

'Don't "majesty" me, what are you all doing sword fighting in the palace?'

'Intruders, your majesty,' said one of the guards. 'They were hostile and may have tried to make an attempt on your life.'

The king looked between the three intruders. 'Do they look hostile to you? For goodness sake,' the king huffed and started down the stairs.

Lunafreya made to go to him, but the guard nearest her shoved her back hard in the chest. 'Away from the king.'

The king walked up to them, gave a look to the guard then turned to Lunafreya. 'I don't know what you're doing here, but…'

Lunafreya watched the emotions play out in her father's eyes. The pain and anger softened to something like disbelief, then hope. He took a step toward her, reached out a strong, heavy hand to cup her cheek.

She lifted her own hand to place over his, tears welling in her eyes as the reality of all that had happened caught up with her. 'Father.'

'Luna…' He took a shaky breath, then his face broke into a smile. 'Luna!' He bent down and grabbed her, hugging her tight to his chest and spinning her around as if he'd never let her go again. 'I thought you were dead. I thought that damn patron saint of Lucis had taken you from me. I couldn't…not after Stella, not you too…but you're here. You're here and you're…your face.' The king pulled back and studied the scars from the burns that mottled her eyes, her cheek, her neck. 'What happened?'

'It's a long story,' Lunafreya said, still smiling. It was good to be home, good to see her father. But there was business to be done. 'I'll explain it later, but first you have to call the war off. You're sending the army the wrong way. Niflheim attacked Lucis, it was completely unprovoked. They stole the crystal and they kidnapped Prince Noctis and we have to get them back.'

The king studied her for a long moment. 'Emperor Idola has already sent a messenger in the form of his grandson, Dante. Dante has explained all of this to us. Luna, with Lucis in ruins and without an heir or crystal, the kingdom won't last long at all. Likely it will be assimilated into the new Niflheim regime, or else split into two smaller kingdoms. Lucis has always been too grand, too large, too powerful. This is the way it is. And in these trying times it does not bode well to go against those with power.'

Lunafreya's blood ran cold, and she pulled herself away from her father. 'You're… _choosing_ to side with Niflheim?'

The king sighed. 'Luna, ours is the smallest of the main kingdoms. Who are we to go against Niflheim, especially now that they have the last crystal? If we were to rise against them thousands would die in a senseless war that we would likely lose. What would be the point in that? If we side with him now, Emperor Idola will allow us to live in peace under his overarching rule. It's the best option for our people.'

'No. No it's the best option for _you_. So you can keep your crown,' Luna said. 'You would have once had me marry Prince Noctis of Lucis, or had you forgotten that?'

'In the past. Lucis is dead. The prince himself has realised that and has sided with Niflheim.'

'What?' Lunafreya asked, at the same time Ignis said the same thing.

The king sighed. 'Have you not heard? Prince Noctis has aligned with Niflheim, and together they destroyed Lestallum. It was a warning, to show what Niflheim is now capable of, with the crystal and the ex Prince of Lucis. Together they could destroy any nation that stands in their way. Luna, you have to understand, the rules of this game have changed. We have no option but to side with Niflheim, or we'll be destroyed like Lestallum. Idola has plans, you see, and anyone that remains loyal to Lucis will be destroyed.'

'But we-'

'Our army will join Niflheim's army and march on Lucis. To show our loyalty to Emperor Idola, we will attack their enemy side by side. If even Prince Noctis is willing to attack Lucis, what hope do they have? Lucis is dead, Luna. But Tenebrae doesn't have to die with it.'

-

'Morning, sleepyhead,' Prompto whispered as the cell door swung closed on creaky hinges. He wished there were curtains he could open, but the small square cell was windowless. Just grey and depressing. Not that Noctis cared what his cell looked like; the poor man was lying on the bed just as he had the last time Prompto had been there three days ago. Prompto hated that it had taken so long for him to visit again, but he knew he was skating on thin ice. He had only just arrived in Niflheim, if he went rushing off to Noctis every five minutes they would suspect he was still loyal to Lucis and then he'd end up in a matching cell and be no use to anyone.

'Got you some gifts. Sorry they're not wrapped, but Niflheim is strangely lacking in gift shops. Seriously, I've walked around the capital and there's hardly anything still open. Just food and clothes shops. And weapon shops. If you want to buy guns and ammo then this is heaven for that. But you can't buy any fun things, it's almost like Niflheim has been at war for so long they've forgotten what fun is.'

Prompto's gaze travelled down to Noctis and his throat constricted painfully. Noctis looked even worse than last time he'd seen him; the prince was still dressed in the black t-shirt and pants he had been wearing when he had been taken from Lucis over a fortnight ago, but now they hung off him and made him look like a kid playing dress up in his dad's clothes. The thin arms that Prompto could see were nothing but skin and bones, bulked up only by the grubby bandages wrapped thickly around each wrist. Noctis's cheeks were hollow, his eyes sunken, and his hair limp against the mattress. They hadn't even provided him with a pillow. When Prompto touched the backs of his fingers to Noctis's cheek the skin was cold as ice; there was no blanket either.

'I'm babbling, aren't I? And you're not even awake enough to tell me to shut up. See? This is why I need you. I need you for so many things, Noct.'

Prompto sighed and glanced down at the backpack in his hands. The guards hadn't searched it, thankfully, or he'd have had some explaining to do. He'd been thinking about what he'd need to help Noctis since he'd seen him the day he arrived in Niflheim and tried to remove the slave crown; Noctis had been in so much pain because of his injuries and neglect that Prompto had had to put the crown back on him just to take away the pain. But now he was well stocked; his bag was packed full of potions, food, drink and even a blanket.

'Right, first things first. Let's get you comfy, yeah?'

Slipping out of his jacket he folded it carefully and gently lifted Noctis's head so he could place the jacket as a pillow. An actual pillow had been too bulky for the bag unfortunately, and the blanket he tucked around Noctis's thin form had taken up a lot of the space. Prompto's hands lingered briefly over Noctis's thin chest. Gently he placed his palm over Noctis's heart, just so that he could feel the weak beat beneath his hand. Noctis was alive. That thought kept him going. Although the ribs he could feel were far too pronounced, and scared the hell out of him. The rattly sound whenever Noctis took a breath was concerning, too. Prompto wished Ignis was there, the bespectacled man would be able to treat Noctis better than he ever could.

'But Iggy's back in Lucis, so you'll have to make do with me. I'll try my best, okay buddy? I've got potions, and antibiotics because that bullet wound on your leg looks a bit yucky.' And that wound hadn't improved in the three days since he had seen it last, either. The skin under Noctis's trouser leg was inflamed and hot. Prompto ran his fingers over it, then gently bent Noctis's leg and ran his fingers underneath Noctis's skinny leg. 'Oh man…' There was no exit wound. The bullet was still inside Noctis's leg. Prompto perched himself on the edge of Noctis's bed and stared long and hard at the wound. His options were simple; give Noctis the potions and heal the wound around the bullet, or try to get the bullet out. He took another look at the wound; the skin was already starting to stitch up, it was weeks old now. Opening it up, especially under non surgical conditions, was going to cause a whole host of problems. Prompto sighed and gently patted Noctis's stick-thin thigh. 'I'll add it to the list of things they can fix when we get back to Lucis. The palace healers are going to have their work cut out for them with you, you know that? You'll hate it, but I think you're gonna be in hospital for a while after this. Don't worry, I'll be there with you to make it more fun.'

Noctis said nothing, simply stared up at the ceiling with half lidded eyes. He was unable to do a single thing without an order from Idola.

With a sigh Prompto dug into his bag again and produced a potion. 'Well, let's get this in you, yeah? You're gonna need to sit up. And you're not going to do that on your own, are you?' Another sigh, and Prompto set the potion down on the floor while he worked on getting Noctis sat up. In theory it was a simple task, since Noctis simply went where you put him and he weighed next to nothing, but in reality as soon as Prompto put his arms around the other man and felt just how frail his friend had become, every movement he made had to be slow and soft. As he moved Noctis up the bed and turned him to lean against the wall he was terrified the whole time that he'd hear the crack of a rib.

When Noctis was finally sat upright Prompto grabbed the potion again and uncapped it. The green liquid within fizzed softly as Prompto brought it to his friend's lips.

'Okay buddy, this is gonna make you feel a whole lot better, alright? When you're not in so much pain I'll take that damn crown off you and you can eat something.'

The plan seemed simple enough in his mind, and he tipped the potion against Noctis's parted lips. The liquid dribbled right back out, down Noctis's chin to soak into his shirt.

'Shit, sorry,' Prompto said, pulling the bottle back and wiping Noctis's lips with his sleeve. 'Okay, let's try tipping your head back so it stays in.'

Prompto did just that, and tried again pouring healing liquid into his friend's mouth. This time it stayed where it was supposed to, and went down Noctis's throat. The effect was instant; since Noctis couldn't move under his own free will he couldn't drink it down. Noctis made a strange gurgling sound, and his body quivered as the liquid built up in his throat and he slowly choked on it.

'No no no!' The colour drained from Prompto's cheeks, and he dropped the bottle on the bed as he reached for his friend and leaned him forward, slapping him on the back. The liquid slowly came out of Noctis's mouth, onto the blanket. It was a long few minutes before it all drained out, and when Prompto pushed Noctis back to lean against the wall again his friend was ashen grey.

Prompto picked up the discarded bottle and resisted the urge to throw it against the wall. Tears built up in his eyes and his breath hitched in his throat. 'This is so unfair. I can't…I can't do anything to help you. Why can't I do anything right? I'm…I'm so sorry Noct…'

He slid up the bed next to Noctis and pulled his friend to his chest, cradling the dark haired boy against himself. His hand went up to run through Noctis's hair, soothing the prince despite the fact he wasn't aware of anything going on around him. When his fingers brushed the cold metal of the slave crown his blood boiled. Idola was going to pay a million times over for doing this to his best friend. One way or another Prompto was going to make him pay. But for now all he could do was hold Noctis and pray that help was coming. Because he couldn't heal Noctis or help him eat or drink. He couldn't do a damn thing except watch his best friend slowly fade away.


	6. Darkest Before the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always darkest before the dawn. While everything seems to be falling to pieces around them, Team Lucis picks itself up and prepares to fight the final battle.
> 
> But the darkest hour is truly black, and for some it will not easily be forgotten, even once the light has returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of Prompto here. ^^ Or, as Asta has given him a new nickname, small Aldercapt. Asta likes nicknames. And Prom isn't doing so great either, so I apologise now.
> 
> Next chapter will be the big battle, then after that maybe we can finally see some fluff and healing. Because these guys really need some fluff and healing. ;__;
> 
> I'm trying not to think about Gamescom. Not loving the Regis redesign, not loving the fact they've removed "foreign fugitive" from Prom's description (I really hope he's not just going to be comic relief - I like the idea of him having a darker past behind his smile). And no release date. You know what, I think it would be quicker if we all banded together and made our own game. :\
> 
> So we may not be getting FFXV until we're old and grey, but have another chapter of this! ...Yeah I know, it's a rubbish substitute, but it's the best I have. Sorry. ;__; Let's weep together and eat chocolate to drown out the disappointment. ♥

'And the number of casualties you said was roughly fifty thousand?' Idola asked, glancing up from his desk where he was writing down everything Prompto said.

'Still yes,' Prompto said as politely as possible. He'd told Idola this several times since arriving in Niflheim, told him every single secret about Lucis that he knew. He could only assume that idola was testing him by asking him so many times, checking to see if his story varied. Prompto had the chilling suspicion that he still hadn't been accepted, and was still seen as a Lucis sympathiser. It probably didn't help that he kept going down to Noctis's cell to see the prince. He'd had to cut his visits over the last week when Aurora and Dante had ratted him out to Idola after they'd seen him sneaking down to the dungeons.

'And their initial army was…?'

'Just under half a million,' Prompto rattled off the figures that King Regis had given him. When he'd come to Niflheim to help Noctis the king had known that Prompto would end up in a cell of his own if he didn't have some decent secrets to give Idola. Prompto felt sick to his stomach every time he gave away their numbers, the locations of their outposts, the number of resources they had. He felt as if he was betraying his home, even though the king had ordered him to come here and do it. It didn't help that every time he tried to contact King Regis he received no response.

Idola set his fountain pen down on the notepad he had been scribbling in, and looked up at his grandson. 'Prompto. The time is almost here. You know what that means?'

Prompto's stomach clenched painfully; he wished he still had some of his pills left but he had run out long ago and hadn't wanted to subject himself to treatment by a healer of Niflheim. He didn't trust them one bit. 'We're going to attack Lucis.'

Idola nodded and sat back in his chair, studying Prompto carefully. 'I need to know that you stand by my side. Prompto, things are going to start changing very quickly in the coming days. A new world will rise from the ashes of the old and Niflheim will lead it. This morning Accordo agreed to lend me their army to join our attack on Lucis with Tenebrae. Only Solheim have refused, and once Lucis has been crushed we will turn our attention to them to make them pay for their insolence.'

Prompto's mouth went dry, but he managed a nod.

'A brave new world is dawning, Prompto. Tomorrow we will begin our campaign. Dante will of course be by my side, but I want you there too. The Aldercapt family united as one to take down our enemies. I hate to say it but Dante has become very comfortable with his position as heir apparent. I'd like to see him a little more disciplined. Perhaps having you both there as equals will ignite the fire within him. A little healthy competition is always a good thing.'

'You honour me,' Prompto mumbled, but he wasn't thinking about encouraging Dante. All he could think of was how the hell he was going to stop an entire marching army. 'What about Noct? I mean the prince? Are you really going to take him?'

A snort of laughter. 'Of course. That was the plan all along; we will need to draw magic through him in order to crush our enemies, then when Lucis sits in ruins we will have him kill his father. Then the slave crown will be removed so that the young prince can appreciate what he has done. By then he will be nothing more than a broken marionette. Mine to do with as I wish, with or without the slave crown. It's not good to have it on too long, you know. God only knows what it's doing to his brain.'

Prompto's blood ran cold, and his thin hands gripped the fabric of his pants at his knees.

Idola shrugged. 'So long as there's enough of him left to recognise his father's corpse, that's all that matters though. And then Lucis will be ours, as it rightfully should. So many years they've looked down their noses at us. They impose rules, enforce their laws. Now the long slog of war will finally come to an end.' Idola looked up and blinked at Prompto, as if having forgotten his grandson was there. 'I don't suppose you'd want Lucis?'

'S-sorry?' Prompto stuttered.

'Well, it will need a ruler. Someone from Niflheim. And you know the kingdom. You know her people and they know and love you. It might make the transition easier for the common people. You would of course be under my direct rule, and only a puppet king, but a castle and a throne isn't anything to be sniffed at. Surely you've spent all these years feeling bitterness toward the prince, and the luxuries he was afforded simply because he was lucky enough to be born a Caelum.'

Prompto thought back to their childhood; holding Noctis's frail hand as the prince was sick yet again, and the crystal that healed him drained him dry of every ounce of energy. He remember how Noctis had been forced to dress up and present himself at royal galas that would often stretch out into the early hours of the morning, then he'd have to drag himself out of bed to get to school the next day. And the meetings, the royal events, the fact he had been followed around by the media everywhere he went and had the expectations of an entire kingdom on his shoulders. He couldn't marry who he wanted; his bride would be whoever was the most advantageous for Lucis. And heaven forbid should he wish to choose a male partner. Absolutely out of the question as there would be no heir. No, Prompto hadn't even once been jealous of his friend. He'd simply been there every step of the way to help keep Noctis from falling apart under the strain. The thought of sitting in Noctis's throne sickened him.

'Sure, I'll take Lucis,' Prompto said, his forced smile wavering slightly.

'Good. Good, that will make things a lot easier,' Idola said, scratching out more notes. He glanced up again, this time looking slightly annoyed. 'You may go. I have preparations to make if we're going to bring this war to a finish in the next few days.'

'Of course,' Prompto said, more than happy to leap from his seat as if it were on fire, and find his way out of his grandfather's office. As soon as the door was shut behind him he closed his eyes and leaned back against it, banging his head lightly against the thick wood. How had it come to this? And how could he stop it? He slipped his phone from his pocket and tried dialling the personal numbers King Regis had given him, with the express purpose of sending information back to Lucis. The landline phone rang off, and he left yet another message. The mobile went straight to voicemail. The same was true for Ignis and Gladiolus's numbers, and Prompto wished he had a number for Cor that he could try. But there was nobody else.

'Well, guess I'm on my own,' he muttered, slipping the phone back in his pocket. The problem was, of course, that he _wasn't_ alone. If he had nobody else to worry about then he could easily slip out of the building, steal himself a car and be across the Niflheim borders before anyone would know he was gone. But he couldn't leave Noctis. Even knowing there was nothing he could do, there was no way he was leaving his friend in the hands of these lunatics.

Pushing away from the door he wandered down the corridor past the closed doors of offices. Even the main reception seemed quiet today; the army was out training or else getting supplies ready and loading up the trucks. Officers were tucked away intercepting airwave intelligence to make sure their attacks hadn't been learned by Lucis. They wanted the element of surprise. And with King Regis not answering his calls they were going to get it, too.

The steps led down into the icy dungeons, and as always Prompto found himself shivering at the temperature change. As he passed cell doors he heard rattling behind them; prisoners that were able to make a fuss at being caged up. But the cell he stopped in front of was entirely silent. The guards outside it didn't even bother to look at him anymore, he had come down here so often. And right now he didn't care if Idola thought it strange, he needed to see his best friend.

Noctis was right where he was always left after a day of Aurora and Dante using him for training as a link to the crystal. They would spend hours perfecting their spells by dragging ethereal energy through Noctis's ragged body, then Idola would bark the order and Noctis would limp off back to his cell. Idola was too paranoid to have the slave crown reconfigured to allow it to recognise voice commands from anyone but himself.

'Evening, buddy,' Prompto said, coming to a stop before the bed with its thin mattress and even thinner occupant. Noctis's eye had a deep bruise under it, probably from a punch. Nobody was gentle with him these days. Prompto curled a lock of dark hair from Noctis's eyes and then took a seat on the edge of the bed. His bright blue gaze settled on the hateful silver band on Noctis's head.

_God only knows what it's doing to his brain._

Idola hadn't been concerned in the least, but it terrified Prompto. The crown had been stifling Noctis's thoughts, memories and emotions for over two weeks now. Not even once had it come off. What was happening to Noctis while all of this was going on? Was his friend even still in there? Fear curled at the edge of his mind, and his fingers rose to the silver crown. Last time he had tried to remove it Noctis had cried out in pain from his injuries, so Prompto was expecting the same again. While he hated to cause his friend pain, seeing him react to _something_ would be a comfort.

The cold metal came away absurdly easily. For something that could hold one's mind in a vice it was very loose to wear. Prompto pulled it free of the strands of dark hair, and set it on the bed beside Noctis. And watched Noctis's face. The seconds ticked past, and Prompto could hear the pounding of his pulse in his ears. His eyes stared hard at Noctis's face, willing the man to scream, to curl up…even a twitch would be something. But Noctis lay perfectly still, staring up at the ceiling as he had done with the crown on.

'Noct?' Prompto whispered, his voice cracking. He lifted a trembling hand to Noctis's sharp cheekbone, and ran the backs of his fingers over the paper thin skin.

Noctis didn't react at all.

'Oh dear,' said a voice from behind him.

Prompto didn't care, he could feel something snap within him. His heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. The only thing that had kept him going was the hope that once Noctis was home and healed and the crown could be removed, then everything would go back to how it had been. Seeing Noctis so broken broke him too, and he wasn't sure what else he should do anymore.

'Go away,' Prompto said, trying to keep his voice even. His eyes were sore and damp, but he blinked back the tears. No way was he going to let a dog of Niflheim see him cry. He leaned down and held Noctis by his shoulders, cradling his friend to his chest and wrapping him up to keep him safe. They had taken everything from him now.

'Now now. No need for hostility,' said the voice, and there were a couple of lazy shuffling footsteps. 'If I wanted I could make a quick call to the Emperor-boss-man and tell him that you're here snuggling your friend and crying over what the big bad Niflungar have done to him.'

'You piece of shit,' Prompto spat, still holding Noctis tight. So tight he was afraid he might snap his friend in two, but then maybe that would be kinder? Maybe death was better than what he was going to be forced to do.

A dark chuckle, then hand on his shoulder. Prompto shook it off violently, but then the hand went to Noctis's hair and Prompto had to pull his friend away from the creep. When he finally looked up he saw it was Asta; the man with the long, wavy red hair that almost looked purple. He needed a shave, Prompto decided, and his amber eyes were dancing with a wild light. 'Piece of shit I might be. But if you want to keep the kitten alive, you might want to listen to what I have to say.'

Prompto could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. He didn't trust this man one bit, but at least he'd never seen him hurt Noctis. 'What? Are you going to juggle and distract the guards while I drag Noct out of here? Any ideas for getting him out of the building without anyone noticing a comatose prince being half carried by the emperor's grandson? You got a way of sneaking him across the borders or should I just shove him in the trunk of a car so nobody notices him?'

That annoying chuckle again. 'There are two ways that the kitten is getting out of Niflheim. In that convey to Lucis tomorrow, or in a body bag.'

'And what about after Lucis?' Prompto demanded. 'What about when he's not useful anymore?'

'Body bag,' Asta said with a dismissive shrug. 'The grand finale will be an end to the Caelum line and Niflheim flags decorating the streets of Insomnia. The king and prince can't survive if the boss wants to hold Lucis. If the kitten doesn't kill himself after murdering daddy dearest, then Idola will do the honours for him. There's no way that he's going to live.'

'So he's dead either way. No matter what happens I can't help him.'

'I didn't say that. But you have to think smart, small Aldercapt. Not like your cousin Dante, who does his utmost not to think at all. Boss-man is going to do the hard work for you; there's no need to sneak the kitten out when he's going to be brought to Lucis anyway. No need to sneak around, no need to steal a car, no risk. This time tomorrow the kitten will be on his way home without you having to lift a finger. What happens after he's home is where things could get very, very interesting.'

Prompto swallowed hard, and looked down at the sickly figure in his arms. He knew he shouldn't be trusting Asta, knew that the man was Niflheim through and through. But what choice did he have? 'Interesting how?'

'Shoot Idola,' Asta said with a shrug. 'While the old man is getting ready to give the attack order to the troops of Tenebrae and Accordo, shoot him in the back. Don't make some big speech and explain yourself to him, he'll find a way out of it. Just do it. Draw your gun, shoot him.'

Prompto laughed. 'Yeah, great. Then _I'll_ end up in a body bag. And Noct too, probably. The army will kill us both.'

'Idola doesn't have many friends you know, small Aldercapt. Once he's gone there won't be many damp eyes to mourn his passing. It just takes someone with enough courage to do it. And I can see in your eyes that you could be the one to bring about the change that's needed. The world doesn't want old Aldercapt leading it, every nation would be as dark and twisted as Niflheim. He needs to die. But nobody is brave enough to make it happen. You have the strongest reason in the world to try; someone you love's life depends on it. You have nothing to lose if you fail.'

Prompto let his cheek rest on Noctis's hair, and subconsciously he began nuzzling while his hand ran up and down Noctis's thin, cold arm. 'So I shoot him? And I trust that the army won't kill me?'

Asta nodded.

'And why should I trust you? Why are you even telling me this?'

Asta shrugged. 'Trust me, don't trust me. I don't care either way. I lose no matter what happens.'

'But can I trust you?' Prompto asked, unable to keep the desperate tone of hope from his voice.

Asta smiled sadly. 'I was the one that cut his wrists.'

Prompto's stomach twisted as Asta left the cell. He _really_ didn't want to trust Asta. But what choice did he have?

-

'Where the hell is he? How long does it take to make a pot of bloody tea?' the small, stout woman asked, shaking her head of brown curls and storming off to the kitchen.

Gladiolus glanced up at Ignis from across the dining table. ' _That's_ your mother?'

Ignis shrugged a single, elegant shoulder. 'I take after my father.'

'No shit,' Gladiolus said, playing with the little silver cake fork beside his placemat.

When the woman returned she saw what Gladiolus was doing, and turned her wrath to him by slapping his hand away from the cutlery. 'Raised in a barn more than a castle, I'd say. Can't you keep your hands idle for five bloody minutes? The tea is now coming.'

Scolded, Gladiolus put his hands in his lap and tried his hardest not to laugh. Ignis looked like he was about to tear his hair out, and indeed his face was in his palms. The little woman slapped his hands, too.

'Elbows off the table; I definitely raised you better than that.'

'Sorry, mother,' Ignis muttered, mirroring Gladiolus by setting his hands in his lap.

The conversation lulled and the only sound was from the kitchen where water was being poured and then there was the tinkle of fine china. Rattling loudly, a tall, thin man appeared in the dining room. He looked exactly like an older version of Ignis, and smiled apologetically to everyone as he set the tray down on the table.

'Apologies, the milk had spoiled so I just had to nip to and get more. Except they've stopped the supplies because of this awful battle they're planning, so the shops were empty. I had to borrow a pint from next door, and you know how Dorothy likes to give you her life story-

'Oh for crying out loud, Batillus, nobody cares about Dorothy and her seventy cats,' Ignis's mother said. 'Just pour the damn tea.'

'Yes, Ustrina,' Bastillus said humbly, and reached for the tea pot. He poured four cups and pushed them on saucers to each place at the table.

'And would it kill you to cut the cake?' Ustrina said. 'I'm famished.'

'Yes, darling,' Bastillus said, setting the cup he hadn't managed to take a sip of back into its saucer, to slice the victoria sponge he had brought through. He placed thin slices on plates, then handed them and napkins around.

Ustrina looked at her slice, then up at her husband. 'On a diet, am I?'

'Of course not, sweetheart!' Bastillus hurried to cut a larger chunk.

'Wouldn't mind a bigger bit myself,' Gladiolus said, trying his luck. He ended up with a chunky wedge, too.

Ustrina grinned at him. 'I like a man that enjoys his food. Baked that myself, I did.'

'S'lovely,' Gladiolus said around his mouthful.

'Finish your mouthful,' she snapped. Then turned to her son. 'And you, just like always. You never eat, that's why you're as thin as a rake. Didn't they feed you in Lucis?'

'I enjoyed a healthy balanced diet,' Ignis said glumly, staring down at his cake. He wasn't hungry.

Ustrina watched him carefully, then set down her cake fork. 'Honey, what's wrong?'

'Wrong? Why would something be wrong?' Ignis said bitterly, then pushed his chair back and stood up. 'Sorry, I appear to have lost my appetite.'

Another chair scraped back, and hands slammed onto the table hard enough to make the teapot rattle. 'Ignis Stupeo Scientia, you get back here _right now_.'

Ignis paused at the door, and turned almost fearfully. 'Mother, I-'

'I don't care what you want. I want you to _sit down and drink your goddam tea_.'

'Yes, mother,' Ignis said, hurrying back to his place at the table and lifting his cup obediently.

His mother sat down too, and tucked thick curly hair behind her ear. 'Sorry about that. Where were we?'

Gladiolus and Bastillus just watched them with wide, open eyes.

'Ignis, dear, what's troubling you?' Ustrina asked, reaching out to squeeze her son's hand.

'I don't know what to think anymore. I'm told the prince attacked Lestallum, but the man I know would never do that. He wouldn't kill innocent people.' Ignis's hand balled into a fist, his neat nails cutting into the flesh of his palm.

'So go and find out why he did it,' Ustrina said with a shrug. 'You've always hated not knowing things, so go and find your answers.'

'I can't,' Ignis said bitterly. 'The king of Tenebrae has forbidden me to be part of this attack. I'm to stay within Tenebrae and once everything has settled down I will be a royal advisor to Princess Lunafreya.'

'And you're happy to let all this happen?' Ignis's father said, his voice as soft as his wife's was loud. 'If you truly believe that Prince Noctis wouldn't do this, then surely you want to go and find out for yourself?'

'Of course I do! More than anything I want to go to him. I need to know…I know he wouldn't…'

'Iggy, we'll find out soon enough,' Gladiolus said. 'I'm working on a way to get us into the army so we can go with them to Lucis. We'll find out what they've done to Noct-'

'And what if it's too late by then? What if they've already killed him? Gladio, we've lost. Everyone has lost. Idola will get what he wants and the world will fall to pieces.'

'Young man I didn't raise you to be so damn useless,' Ustrina said. 'Do you think Princess Lunafreya is sitting on her laurels? No. She'll have a plan. And the two of you are here eating cake and drinking tea.'

'It's good cake,' Gladiolus interjected.

'It's damn fine cake,' Ulstrina agreed. 'But if you want your answers and you want to save your royal friend, I suggest you do something a bit more sensational.'

'Like what?' Ignis growled. 'How am I supposed to do anything? I couldn't help him when he was being kidnapped and I sure as Etro can't help him now.'

'Well, I suppose he'll just have to die then,' Ulstrina said, sipping her tea calmly.

All three men looked at her shocked.

'Oh, sorry, I thought we were throwing a pity party? I understand that you're upset, Ignis, but you were gifted with a brain the size of a planet. If you can't come up with a plan then I suppose there really is no way to stop the wheels of fate. Lucis will fall. We'll all be under Idola's rule and end up as miserable as Niflheim, and prince Noctis will be killed. It is a shame, but if you really can't think of anything then I suppose it can't be helped.'

'I didn't say there was no way,' Ignis said.

'Oh?'

'I…I suppose…' Ignis paused, his mind working a mile a minute. 'Why wait for the army to set out? If we leave now we can reach Lucis before them. And perhaps we can stop Tenebrae attacking by bringing Princess Lunafreya with us? We could pretend we have kidnapped her, and hold her ransom. It might stop Tenebrae from joining the fight.'

'Or we might be killed at the Tenebrae border for kidnapping the princess,' Gladiolus pointed out.

'There is an element of risk, yes. Does that worry you?' Ignis challenged.

Gladiolus swallowed another mouthful of cake, and grinned. 'I live for risk.'

'Good. Then we need to contact the princess.' Ignis rose from his chair, but a soft, strong hand pulled at his wrist.

'Finish your damn tea, first. And eat some cake, you look like a bloody curtain pole.'

'Yes mother,' Ignis said, obediently cutting a piece of cake with his fork.

-

'Lucis needs you. Prince Noctis needs you. I…I need you,' Cor's voice was strong until the last syllable, but he felt as if his world was shattering around him. His king had still not regained consciousness though the healers assured him that the worst had passed. King Regis had suffered a heart attack, and Cor was sure it was because of the news of his son.

'We'll find out what he was thinking. There is nothing that can't be mended, your majesty. We'll get the prince back, and then we'll sort everything out. But you need to wake up. You need to be awake to see him come home.'

Cor's words fell on deaf ears. The heart monitor beeped peacefully beside the bed, plotting the trace of the king's heart beat. A needle was stuck into his pale arm, giving him fluids and drugs. But the figure that lay against the starched white pillows was drawn and grey, looking older than his years. With everything that had happened in the past few weeks Cor couldn't blame him; hell, it felt as if he had aged a decade too. Nothing was simple anymore, nothing made sense. And emotions that Cor hadn't felt in years were bubbling to the surface. He threaded his fingers with the king's, marvelling at their differences. The king's hand was pale and soft, with neatly manicured nails. Cor's was larger, rough and calloused through years of sword fighting, and tanned from training outside and his guard duty. So different, yet when entwined it was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle coming together. Yin and yang.

'Cor? Asked a weak voice.

Cor's hard gaze snapped up, and his breath caught in his throat. 'Majesty?'

The king's thin lips quirked into a smile beneath his beard. He badly needed to shave. 'You look as though you haven't slept in a hundred years.'

Cor felt his own lips tug into an involuntary smile. 'I feel as though I haven't slept in a hundred years. You, however, need to be asleep. Your body is healing, majesty, I told you that you were working yourself too hard-'

'Nonsense,' the king said, and to Cor's horror began to sit himself up. 'Is there any news-'

'No.' Cor surprised himself with the sharpness of his voice. 'Your majesty, you just had a heart attack. Those can _kill_ people. We will not speak of the war, you will lay back down and rest until the healers have cleared you as fit.'

For a long moment the two men held each other's gaze, then Regis slid back down the bed. He squeezed Cor's hand and smiled softly. 'You really are a good friend. But my son…?'

Cor's silence answered for him.

The king nodded. For a long time they didn't speak, until the king finally shifted n his bed a little to find a more comfortable position.

'I dreamed of him. He hated me. He yelled but I couldn't hear the words, and then he ran away. He kept getting further and further from me, but my feet were stuck to the floor and try as I might I couldn't run after him. Then he vanished. What does that mean, Cor?'

'It means that you were high on morphine.'

The king chuckled. 'I'm sure it has some higher meaning. I've lost him. He hates me, and there's no way I'm getting him back.'

The beep of the heart monitor wavered, and Cor glanced at it nervously. 'Don't think that. He doesn't hate you. We don't know what he's thinking right now. All that matters is that he's alive. We get him back, we beat out whatever crap Idola has been filling his head with, we go back to how things were. Simple.'

'Simple,' The king agreed, but his voice sounded distant. 'If only life were simple.'

'It can be,' Cor insisted. 'It will be.'

The king's eyes closed. 'I'm sorry, Cor. I'm feeling rather tired, still.'

Cor placed his hand on the top of the king's head, and gently ran his fingers through the king's hair. 'Of course, majesty. Get some rest. I'll be here for you.'

'I know. You always are.'

_-_

_'I remember tears streaming down your face_  
_When I said, "I'll never let you go"_  
_When all those shadows almost killed your light_  
_I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone"_  
_But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight_  
  
_Just close your eyes_  
_The sun is going down_  
_You'll be alright_  
_No one can hurt you now_  
_Come morning light_  
_You and I'll be safe and sound."_

Prompto's singing voice had often been described as sweet and soothing, but right now it was hard to form the words. His throat felt tight, his voice thick with tears as he choked on the lyrics. He sat on Noctis's prison bed and held the man in his lap, cradling him to his chest and rocking him gently back and forth. His best friend looked dead; his skin was cold to the touch, his breathing almost nonexistent. The clothes he wore swamped his emaciated frame, and he hadn't been allowed to bathe the entire time he'd been kept prisoner. But Prompto held him tight as if he was the most precious thing in the world, and sang to him. Promised him it would be alright. Because somehow he would _make_ it alright. Today they left for Lucis, where Idola would drag magic through Noctis's fragile body, and where he would order Noctis to kill his father. The only bitter consolation was that Prompto knew once Idola removed the crown Noctis wouldn't react at all. Idola was hoping for Noctis to break down after realising what he'd done, but the crown had stripped him of his humanity. There was nothing left of him. Prompto found it half comforting that Noctis wouldn't be put through that pain if it came down to it. But hopefully it wouldn't; Prompto was going to shoot Idola. He'd made up his mind. And if Asta was wrong, and the army turned on them, then he'd shoot Noctis and then shoot himself through the roof of his mouth before he let them get their slimy hands on them again. A grim plan, but he felt better for having one. A strange sense of calm washed over him, and he lowered his head to press a kiss to Noctis's temple. 'Not long now, Noct. Not long at all.' Even if Noctis wasn't there anymore he'd still pretend that he was. The doll in his arms still felt like Noctis, still looked like Noctis. It was the closest he'd ever get, and he'd protect the avatar of his friend to his dying breath.

At least he thought he would.

The door to the cell banged open, and Prompto almost dropped Noctis. He was able to slip the prince out of his lap just as Dante and Aurora swanned in.

Dante froze when he saw Prompto. 'What are _you_ doing here?'

'Just…checking on him. What are _you_ doing here?' Prompto countered.

'Training.' Dante shrugged. 'Like every day. We take him out, we practice magic with him.'

'But today we're leaving,' Prompto protested. He'd have though Noctis might at least get a break from training today.

Dante rolled his eyes. 'That's why we're having a _short_ training session. Just an hour or so, to keep my skills sharp.'

'Your skills are already perfect, your highness,' Aurora said.

Prompto tried not to throw up. The sounds of fake retching didn't come from him, though, but rather from by the cell door. Asta was leaning lazing against the frame, watching them.

The red head sighed. 'Ah, young love. How I loathe it.'

'Nobody invited you,' Aurora said sharply.

'And yet here I am. Aren't you lucky?'

Dante huffed and turned back to Prompto, who was discreetly slipping off the bed. Dante's eyes narrowed. 'Seriously, what are you doing in here? Why were you on his bed?'

'I was sitting down. Is there a law in Niflheim against that, too?' Prompto grumbled, trying to cover up his fear with anger.

'You're very cosy with him,' Dante continued. 'I've heard you come down here a lot. An awful lot. What do you need to check up on? He's a zombie. Nothing is going to change. Why do you keep coming down to see him?'

'I haven't been that often,' Prompto countered.

'Oh, but you have. I have my own spies within the guards, you know? So what's the deal? Are you taking his crown off and talking to him? Plotting escape? Plotting an uprising?'

'No! Nothing like that!' Prompto said, cold beads of sweat running down his back. He was too close to getting Noctis out of this cell to let Dante ruin it. The air at his hand started to charge, he felt a weapon forming in his hand, ready for use.

'Okay then, I believe you,' Dante said suddenly. But there was a cold smile on his face. 'But you have to prove it. I can see that gun trying to form in your hand. I can feel the difference in the air when magic is being used. I'm trained now, I can make one of my own.' Dante reached out a hand and a perfectly formed silver gun materialised and aimed right at Prompto's head. 'If you really don't care about him, you won't mind shooting him. Right?'

The gun spun in Dante's hand and he offered it to Prompto.

Prompto wished Dante had shot him. A bullet would have been far less painful than what he was being told to do. He had little choice but to accept the weapon, and he glanced from Aurora's cold, emerald gaze to Dante's snarky grey one. If he didn't press the trigger then they'd know he was loyal to Lucis. But if he pulled the trigger then he wouldn't be loyal. He couldn't hurt Noctis; he had sworn to protect him.

'Haven't got all day,' Dante said with a dramatic sigh.

Though firearms were his weapon of choice, the gun was cold and unfamiliar in his hands. It felt wrong. He glanced back to Asta, to see if there was any help forthcoming from him, but the tall man was resting against the doorframe watching him with an easy, languid gaze. He definitely didn't look like he was going to leap up and attack Dante. Prompto's breath quickened, and he willed himself to be anywhere but here. Then Asta winked at him. Quickly, discreetly, but Prompto was sure he had seen it. Or perhaps he had wanted to believe it.

A metallic click, and once again Dante had a gun aimed on him. 'Either you shoot or I shoot you as a traitor. But when you do shoot him, not in the head or anything vital, alright? Grandfather wants him for his pet project. Don't look so freaked, Prom, I've got a potion on me. You shoot him, prove your loyalty, and we'll patch him up good as new. Nobody has to know. But you'll have earned my respect.'

Prompto didn't want Dante's respect. But if he died then there would be nobody to save Noctis from his fate of killing his father. His stomach felt like lead as he raised the gun, and took Noctis in his sights. Noctis. His prince. His best friend. The guy he had sneaked out with at night to go to parties. The guy he had got drunk with for the first time. The guy he had stolen motorbikes with and gone racing down Main Street at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. The guy who sat by his bedside when he was sick and made him burned canned chicken noodle soup, but it tasted like haute cuisine because Noctis had bothered trying to make it for him.

 _I'm so sorry…_ he said to the boy he had once loved.

He fired the gun. The shot rang out impossibly loud in the tiny cell, but Prompto couldn’t hear the explosion of the bullet because the shattering of his heart was even louder. By pulling the trigger something inside of his mind had broken just like Noctis's. Nothing would ever be the same. Noctis was gone. He had shot Noctis. What did that make him? What kind of crappy friend shot their best buddy just to stay alive?

'Wow. Just…wow,' Dante said. 'Didn't think you'd actually do it. You really are a cold hearted bastard!'

Prompto said nothing. His breathing was ragged, and he was holding back tears. Somehow his eyes had got closed, had that happened before or after he'd pulled the trigger?

A hand clapped on his shoulder, and he almost collapsed.

'Nice shooting, though. I think we'll leave the training for today. Aurora's right; I am already perfectly fine with it.'

The door closed. Even without opening his eyes Prompto knew that Dante and Aurora were gone, but he had expected Asta to go with them.

'Open your eyes, small Aldercapt.'

'He didn't give him the potion,' Prompto realised, voice shaking.

'Eyes.'

'He didn't…he promised to heal him…oh Etro…'

'Prompto,' Asta said sharply. 'Open your damn eyes.'

Swallowing back bile, Prompto finally did so. He expected to see Noctis dead, with crimson blood soaking into the mattress and running across the floor to his boots. But Noctis looked exactly the same. It was then that Prompto noticed the shimmering in the air, and the bullet lodged in the invisible barrier. It was aimed at Noctis's head.

Asta stepped forward and plucked the bullet from the air, then let the magical barrier drop. 'Dante did say not to aim for the head, are you always this rebellious? Good thing I trained with the kitten and can use magic, too. I don't think either of them would have thought to spare his life. Then Boss-man really would have been pissed off.' Asta's golden gaze lifted. 'You okay? You look a bit pale.'

Prompto made a little high pitched sound, almost like a laugh, and then fainted.


	7. Worth Fighting For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship. Family. Love. Honour. Power. We all have something worth fighting for.
> 
> The battle for Lucis unfolds, but Idola doesn't have the upper hand that he thought he did. Things may not play out quite how he intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scene! Not good at these, so apologies in advance. ^^; But next chapter we can start seeing some epic comfort and fluff to make up for all the hardships these guys have been dragged through. Many, many hugs. Like, a bajillion hugs.
> 
> Once again HUGE thanks to saki-san for beta reading. Thank you so much! ♥
> 
> And thank you everyone that has stuck with me and read so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

As expected, Lunafreya hadn't required much convincing. When Ignis had called her the princess was at her wit's end. Her mother and father were refusing to listen to reason and were constantly engaged in war councils. They were ignoring her, expecting her to sit back safe in her bedroom while Tenebrae joined forces with Niflheim and attacked their once ally, Lucis. Lunafreya wasn't someone who liked to sit around, so as soon as Ignis had explained his plan she had packed up a bag and was hurrying out of the castle. There were so few guards about that it was easy enough to leave, and besides, it wasn't as if she was a prisoner. Still, she kept looking over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to ask her what she was doing. Perhaps it was the guilt she felt; she was, technically, committing treason against her country.

She took a bus to the outskirts of town, with her new scars nobody gave her a second glance or even guessed that she might be a princess. It was a short walk after that to a small farmhouse shop that was currently closed for business. The little old lady was hanging washing out on a line, but Lunafreya could imagine her son and possibly even her husband had been drafted into the army to go and fight Lucis. Lunafreya sat on the low wall around the farm and listened to the woman humming as she pegged shirts out. She had been expecting a shiny black car, she was so used to them in her royal position, so when the sun bleached red Ford Fiesta came rattling down the lane with its bent bumper and duct taped wing mirror, she barely gave it a second glance. Until it rolled to a stop in front of her.

'Thank you for agreeing to this, your highness,' Ignis said, rolling down the window. He caught her expression. 'Ah, we thought it might be a little less conspicuous.'

Gladiolus leaned over from the passenger seat. 'Actually, he means we couldn't get anything better. This is his mother's car.'

Ignis coughed in embarrassment. 'Yes, well. That may be. But we should hurry, who knows if Idola might have changed his plans and will be attacking sooner.'

'Of course,' Lunafreya said, scrambling to her feet with her bag. Gladiolus got out and allowed her to slip into the backseat, then they were on their way again, bumbling down the country lane.

Gladiolus was the one to voice all their fears. 'This car _will_ get us to Lucis, right?'

'It's as stubborn as my mother is. It would get us there and back if we needed it to.'

Gladiolus nodded. 'Fair enough. Just remember what she said. You scratch it, you're paying for the repairs. Though how she'd know which scratches were already there and which you'd done-'

'She'd know,' Ignis said with utmost certainty.

'Are we talking about Mrs Scientia?' Lunafreya asked with a knowing smile. She could remember the woman from her younger years, before Ignis had been sent to Lucis. He had originally going to be her own advisor, but then he had been given the opportunity to study in Lucis with its crystal and its advanced technology. Lunafreya couldn't blame Ignis for jumping at the opportunity.

'Yes. Mother says hello, by the way. And she baked brownies.'

'Oooh, brownies!' Lunafreya unearthed a little Tupperware container and opened it up to find a large stock of soft chocolate cakes. Gladiolus reached through the gap in the seats to snag one, and she took one for her herself. 'Oh god these are amazing. Your mother should come and be my personal chef, the cooks at the palace are horrendous.'

'If we survive this, I'll pass on the compliment,' Ignis said.

'Hey, no pessimism,' Lunafreya said. 'We can do this. We've got a head start on the armies; they're not moving out until this afternoon-'

Ignis almost lost control of the car. _'This afternoon?_ I thought they were leaving tomorrow morning?'

Lunafreya frowned, then bit into her brownie thoughtfully. 'Oh right, you weren't at the castle. Idola gave the command to start marching this afternoon. By late tonight the fun will have started if we can't stop it in time. Idola wanted the cover of darkness.'

Ignis exhaled a long, deep breath and rested his elbow on the windowsill as he drove. 'That cuts the window rather fine. The car will bring us to Lucis ahead of the ground troops, but Niflheim uses a lot of aircraft for its military operations. It may be that Idola starts the battle early with his own troops for the element of surprise, and then the reinforcements can arrive a few hours later.

'Better step on it, then,' Lunafreya said.

'How can you be so cheerful?' Ignis asked.

'Chocolate makes everything better. Here, eat some quick before you go all grumpy,' Lunafreya said, handing over a brownie.

Ignis took it grudgingly.

'No frowning,' Lunafreya warned. 'We can do this. We have a plan. This time tomorrow everything will be over, our kingdoms will be at peace and Noct will be back with his friends and family. And we can all eat brownies together.'

Gladiolus twisted around for another one at the reminder of their existence.

'Assuming there's any left,' Lunafreya amended. 'Have you tried calling the king again yet?'

'I tried before we set off,' Ignis said, then reached into his pocket and handed his phone to Gladiolus. 'Perhaps try again?'

Gladiolus did so, calling first the king's office number then his mobile. The mobile was still switched off, the land line went to the messaging system. 'No good. I'll try Cor again.'

Lunafreya frowned. 'And they're not picking up at all? What does that mean? Do you think…we're already too late?

'We'd have heard if Lucis had been attacked,' Ignis said confidently. 'It would be all over the news.'

'Cor? Cor! Sweet, listen…what?'

Ignis and Lunafreya fell silent, listening to the one sided conversation. Gladiolus was frowning at something, then his warm brown eyes turned to Ignis.

'Is the king alright now? Good. Well, get him somewhere safe, somewhere underground if you can. Things are about to start getting real messy.'

Gladiolus explained that the nations had joined forces and were preparing an imminent attack, so Cor needed to assemble what was left of the Lucian army to defend the kingdom.

'Not all bad news, though, we're bringing a gift back with us,' Gladiolus turned and smiled to Lunafreya. 'The Princess of Tenebrae. It might stop the Tenebrae army; we're hoping that if the king thinks his daughter is at risk he'll pull back his army. That will get rid of them, at least, but the rest is going to be up to us. Niflheim's forces are still pretty weak from the years of fighting they've been doing, but they've got Accordo, too. At least they won't have the element of surprise now.'

As Gladiolus hung up he glanced at the screen for a long moment. Then he sighed, and raked a hand through his long hair. 'King Regis had a heart attack. He's still in the hospital.'

Lunafreya gasped, but Ignis wasn't particularly surprised. He knew well that the Caelum family had a whole myriad of health problems, and this had been a particularly stressful time.

With the king down there was no royal figurehead to lead the army. Lunafreya sighed. 'We're going to need more brownies.'

-

'Small Aldercapt?'

Prompto didn't respond. That wasn't his name. He was Prompto _Argentum_ , dammit. Who cared that he had nasty Niflheim blood in his veins? He wasn't like them. He wasn't. He didn't torture people or start wars. Except he had shot Noctis. He had shot him. That the bullet had been deflected by someone else didn't matter; he had shot Noctis in the head and he would have died and-

'Small Aldercapt.'

Prompto shivered, and pulled his legs tighter to his chest. If he stayed here, stayed rocking back and forth on the cold stone floor, maybe everything would just leave him alone and go away. Or better yet he could make everything disappear. The gun he had used on Noctis was still in his hand. All he had to do was aim the barrel up at the roof of his mouth and everything would be fine. Or was it the back of the throat? Prompto couldn't remember which way was the surest way. Brains or throat? Brains or throat…

'Small Aldercapt,' the voice said more sharply, and the gun was wrestled from his weak grasp. 'Are you going to sit there all day?'

Prompto blinked up at the red haired man - Asta, his memory helpfully supplied - and made a confused noise.

Asta sighed dramatically. At some point he had changed; he was wearing the dark uniform and white cloak of a Niflheim officer, and there was a black hat atop his head. He also had some kind of strange arm bracer that almost looked like a wing. He held up his phone. 'The army is beginning to move out. I've been issued the order to bring the sleepy kitten up to be loaded into an airship. Are you coming, or are you going to let him die?'

Prompto breathed in sharply at the word "die". He didn't want to think about Noctis being dead, even though he knew he already was. Even when the slave crown was removed Noctis wasn't there anymore. The shell of his body still drew breath, but Noctis was gone. So what was the point?

There was a rustle of fabric, then Asta was crouched down beside him, staring into his eyes. 'Prompto. He needs you. Lucis needs you. The whole bloody world needs you. You've got to get on that airship. You’ve got to shoot Idola. You can get close enough, he won't suspect a thing so long as you do it quickly.'

'I shot Noct,' Prompto said, his voice cracking.

Asta briefly closed his eyes. 'Because Dante told you to. You proved your loyalty so that you could continue on this mission and help Noctis. You were never going to hurt him, you knew that I'd step in.'

'Did I? How did I know?' Prompto asked, his eyes feeling hot and damp. 'Why did you even do it?'

'You're not the only one that wants to see Idola burn,' Asta said. 'Dante has his reasons to follow him. Aurora has her reasons to want every Lucian shot in the head. And I have my reasons to stop this damn war. It's been going on too long, Idola has been stirring up hate for too long when we should have put down our weapons and started healing the nation.'

Prompto stared into his eyes. 'I never know what you're thinking.'

Asta grinned. 'Nobody does, it's how I got so far in the army. Nobody knows anything about me. So nobody can suspect me. I'm a million different people in one, but you've never seen the true me. He died a million years ago. He was tortured by Idola. He changed so much that even Idola didn't recognise him when he came into the army and rose to be his right hand man.'

'You're insane,' Prompto said, matter of factly.

Asta shrugged a single shoulder, and stood up. 'Yeah, quite probably. Or maybe I'm the only normal one and it's the rest of the god damn world that's insane.'

Prompto took Asta's hand when it was offered to him, and let himself be dragged to his feet. His legs cramped a little, and he realised he'd been sitting on the cold floor of the cell for close to four hours. Noctis didn't look any better than when he'd last looked; still painfully thin, bruised, bloodied, bandaged, and generally looking like death warmed up. Prompto rested a hand on Noctis's forehead, his fingers brushing the hateful metal of the slave crown.

'Do you know anything about this thing?'

'The crown? Yeah. I downloaded all the research on it,' Asta patted his pocket with his phone in it. 'They knew this was a side effect. The longer the crown stays on, the worse it gets. It was only supposed to be a short term thing, it was never intended to be fitted to someone for weeks at a time.'

'Do the notes say how to reverse the damage?'

'Haven't read them all,' Asta said. 'We need to get going or they'll get suspicious. Move aside, Small Aldercapt.'

Prompto stepped away from the bed, and cast one last glance around the cell they had kept him in. If Lucis took any Niflheim prisoners, Prompto hoped they got cells at least as horrible as this. And if for some reason Idola, Dante or Aurora were taken alive, Prompto wanted their minds to be destroyed as well as their bodies. He wanted them to be broken down piece by piece until they weren't them anymore, just empty shells of human beings.

Asta slipped his arms under Noctis's knees and back, and lifted the prince as if he weighed nothing. Which, Prompt thought darkly, he probably didn't. He followed Asta out of the cell, and noted there were no guards in the dungeons anymore. As they walked past the cells each door was wide open, and the room inside empty.

'Where are all the prisoners?' Prompto asked.

'We need all the guards to join the army. We've lost a lot of men over the years, though Idola boasts of vast numbers in our army, the number is much smaller. And the majority are women, children or old men. Anyone that can hold a weapon has been drafted in for this last push.'

'So the prisoners are fighting too? For Niflheim?' Prompto asked.

'No. The prisoners were an inconvenience. We couldn't spare the guards so…'

'You killed them.'

'Not me personally,' Asta pointed out. 'I'm not a monster.'

'I hate Niflheim. I freaking _hate_ Nifleheim,' Prompto said as they walked up the steps to the ground floor.

'I wouldn't say that out loud, Small Aldercapt, we're about to sit with your grandfather for several hours and he may not take kindly to it.'

Prompto didn't care, but he shut his mouth as they walked through the government building that was a bustling hive of activity, and then outside and to an airstrip where several giant metal airships were waiting. After conversing with a marshal, Asta nodded toward the one on the end. They climbed inside and Asta set Noctis down on the gurney that had been set between the two benches on either side of the small space. Prompto hurried past Asta toward a pyramid of supply bags, and he quickly found a blanket which he tucked around Noctis. Asta snorted, but said nothing and strapped Noctis onto the bed so he was secure.

Prompto took a seat on one of the benches as close to Noctis as he could get. For few minutes he sat, bouncing his knees a little as he watched Noctis's frail chest slowly rise and fall. Then he turned to Asta who was sitting directly opposite him. 'What if someone stops me? Or I miss?'

'You won't,' Asta said. 'But there are backup plans. Accordo will never make it.'

Prompto frowned. 'They won't?'

'I sent a message to Solheim to keep them in the loop. Solheim stayed loyal to Lucis, and as they border Accordo they have promised to set a blockade to stop the army getting through. By the time the army can set out the fighting will be long over, one way or another. The only additional army we have to worry about is Tenebrae.'

Prompto nodded. 'Okay, so if I-'

'The walls have ears, Small Aldercapt. And Idola could be anywhere.'

It was true; it seemed that barely a minute later Idola, with a few personal guards, stormed into the airship. He was closely followed by Dante and Aurora, who were in full battle gear. Prompto suddenly felt very underdressed.

Idola appeared tired and grumpy. He was handed a canteen of coffee which he sipped, and read from a tablet computer. As the airship lifted off his mood grew darker still, until he glanced up at Noctis. Then he turned to Dante. 'You're sure you'll be alright?'

'Of course, grandfather. I'll keep the princeling close and use him to draw magic. The Lucian army will bow in no time against our forces.'

Idola grunted. 'Just remember, we're the vanguard. Accordo and Tenebrae won't arrive for a couple of hours. They're slow moving by ground, and I couldn't wait for them to arrive. Lucis could have caught wind of our attack. The element of surprise is crucial. And the cover of darkness will give us an extra edge.'

'A brilliant plan, your majesty,' Aurora said.

Prompto tuned out the rest of the battle talk, and drifted off for several hours. When he opened his eyes again the aircraft was silent and the sky outside the windows was pitch black. A quick glance at his watch told him that the time was close to midnight.

'Not much further,' Dante said softly across the room.

Prompto hadn't realised his cousin was awake. His voice was enthusiastic enough when he replied, though not for the reasons Dante would guess. 'Yeah, almost there.'

'The first airships should get here any second. They'll hide in the darkness and wait for us all to arrive and then we'll attack together. We'll kill half the army before Accordo and Tenebrae even get there, I almost feel bad that they'll miss out on the fun.'

'Yeah, fun,' Prompto said. If you considered a massacre fun.

It was only a few minutes later that Idola's phone rang, startling the old man awake. He made a grab for his phone and answered with a gruff; 'What?'

Prompto watched him discreetly from the corner of his eyes, biting back a smirk at the look of horror that was dawning on Idola's face. He had no idea what the news was, but if it was bad for Idola, then it was good for Team Lucis.

'I see. Tell them to get here as quickly as possible.' Idola ended the call, then sighed deeply.

'Something wrong?' Dante asked, leaning forward in his seat.

'Accordo's army has been held up. The streets have been blocked. Bloody Solheim is behind it, I just know it. As soon as we've finished here we'll make them pay for their loyalty to Lucis.'

Prompto caught Asta's gaze briefly, and the red haired man winked at him. Well, at least one thing was going their way. With Accordo out of the fight that only left Tenebrae, and the patchwork army of elderly and young that Niflheim had. Prompto was still singing that victory in his mind when Idola's phone rang again.

'Now what?' he barked. If possible his grey, haggard face paled further. This time he didn't answer, he just hung up. The airship was starting to descent, Prompto could feel it.

'Grandfather?' Dante asked. Bravely, Prompto thought, considering Idola's infamous rage.

'Two of our airships have been shot down. They…they know we're coming.'

'How?' Dante asked, leaping to his feet. 'There's no way.'

'Oh shut up, boy!' Idola yelled. 'They know, that's all that matters. We need to act quickly. And Tenebrae needs to get here faster.' He dialled the phone, but something rocked the airship and the device flew from his hands. They had landed.

Dante swallowed hard. 'So now what?'

Idola stood up, trying to look as if he was in control. Hi watery gaze travelled to Noctis, and he nodded to himself. 'We can still win. I will still claim my victory, and watch Regis die at the hands of his son. Even if it’s the last thing I see, it will happen. Lucis will burn.'

Cold night air rushed in as soon as the airship doors opened. Idola stormed out first with no regard for his own safety, though guards flanked him on either side. Asta went to Noctis and began unstrapping the boy, with Dante looming over his shoulder.

'You'll need to carry him, Asta. Only my grandfather can issue him orders to walk, and he'll be busy directing troops.'

Prompto doubted even if he was given the order that Noctis could walk anymore. His legs were so thin from weight loss and muscle atrophy that they didn't look strong enough to hold up even Noctis's slight weight. Add in the fact that they hadn't fed him in Etro knew how long, Noctis probably didn't have the energy to move a muscle. Prompto was seriously worried about anyone trying to draw magic through him in this state.

Asta complied and lifted Noctis into his arms, holding him bridal style with Noctis's head resting on his shoulder. Dante left the airship with Aurora at his side, simply expecting the other two to follow.

Asta moved closer to Prompto. 'Now or never, Small Aldercapt. You got the guts to do it?'

Prompto's hand balled into a fist at his side. 'Of course I have.'

Outside the cold wind whipped his hair and clothes, and in the darkness he tried to pick out Idola. There were lots of airships, and more in the sky. In the distance he could hear fighting; clashes of swords and shots from guns.

'Where is he?' Prompto asked.

'He'll be close. He likes to pretend he leads wars, but he'll never get too close to the fighting if he can help it. He'll yell his commands from safety,' Asta said.

'Come _on_ ,' Dante yelled. Then he yelped as something attacked him from behind.

'Dante!' Aurora yelled, a spear appearing in her hand as she fought off a Lucian swordsman that had crept up in the cover of darkness. Their black uniforms made seeing Lucian soldiers in the dark next to impossible, whereas the white capes of Niflheim made them stand out like sore thumbs.

Prompto could feel magic in the air from Aurora drawing the weapon, his stomach twisted as he wondered what use of magic was doing to Noctis in his condition. Dante was next, and he drew a sword from the ether using the crystal's magic, and began slashing at the soldier that had attacked him. When that one fell two more took his place, and Aurora began drawing spells. Fire was her favourite; flames licked her palm as she shot them at her enemies, lighting up the battlefield and drawing more Lucian soldiers to them. More fire. More weapons. Until there wasn't any more.

Dante screamed and punched the last soldier in the jaw, leaping on him and slamming his fist again and again until the soldier's face was a bloody mess. Then Dante turned his rage to Noctis. He stormed over and grabbed Noctis, pulling him out of Asta's arms and letting him fall to the ground. He kicked Noctis in the ribs so the younger man rolled over.

'Get up! Give me more magic, dammit!'

Prompto leaped at him, pulling him back from another kick. 'Dante, he's exhausted. This happens, he runs out of magic.'

'Well, how does he get it back? Make him recharge,' Dante shrieked, pushing Prompto hard, so the other man fell hard to the ground.

Pain shot through Prompto's wrist, but he ignored it and crawled over to Noctis. There was blood on his friend's lips, shining against his pale skin in the moonlight. 'He regenerates magic by resting. You haven't been letting him rest enough, he's empty.'

'Tell him to hurry up. We're in the middle of a war here,' Dante said.

'Dante, there are more soldiers coming,' Aurora said worriedly.

Dante kicked Noctis again, in the hip, then again. When he tried once more Prompto leaped forward and grabbed his cousin's leg, toppling him over so that Dante fell on the grass. Dante's boot caught him in the cheek and would probably leave a nasty bruise, but Prompto wasn't interested. Right now he just needed to stop the other blond.

'I've found Idola,' Asta said.

'Now is _not_ a good time,' Prompto growled, grimacing as Dante punched him in the face and scrambled over him to get to Noctis.

'Okay, I'll just tell him to wait a moment,' Asta said.

Prompto ignored the sarcasm, and instead made a rash decision. Though he knew Noctis had been drained dry, he tried to materialise a gun anyway. He begged, he pleaded in his mind for Noctis to give him a scrap of energy that he could morph into just one bullet. And suddenly something cold and hard appeared in his hand. He didn't think, he just shot.

'Wrong Aldercapt,' Asta said in an annoyed tone.

Aurora screamed, and quick as a flash she threw herself in front of Dante, taking the bullet meant for him in her shoulder. She collapsed hard on the ground, and Dante forgot all about Noctis as he rushed over to hold her.

It seemed everything was happening at once. Asta was trying to encourage him to shoot Idola, who was directing forces a few feet away. Dante was cursing him, saying how he was going to kill Prompto while alternating between telling Aurora that she was going to be okay. Prompto ignored them all, and crawled over to where Noctis lay. He threaded his fingers with Noctis's, and covered the small body with his own to shield his friend. He didn't care about shooting Idola anymore, the only thing his frazzled brain could think of was keeping Noctis safe from anyone else hurting him.

'It's okay. I'm here. They're not gonna hurt you, I promise.'

Something landed on his shoulder, and he was sure it was Asta. Until a much nicer voice spoke in his ear. 'Prom?'

He almost didn't believe it. It was a trick of his broken mind, or a whisper distorted on the wind. But when he uncurled himself, he found himself staring into a pair of warm, concerned eyes. He couldn't help it; he threw himself into Gladiolus's arms and wept.

'Oh Etro, I didn't…you're here. You're really here!'

Gladiolus didn't seem to quite know what to do, but he held the smaller man close and rubbed his back gently. 'It's okay Prom, it's okay. What are you doing out here?'

'You don't know? I went to Niflheim to get Noct. And then they were killing him. And they made him do stuff. And now he's dead. He's dead, Gladio, they killed him. They killed…oh Etro, they killed him…'

Gladiolus's face paled, and his arms trembled as he glanced over at Noctis, so pale and still. 'Shit. Oh shit.'

There were more sounds of sword slashes behind them, and Prompto was sure he heard Cor's battle cry. But he didn't care. Noctis was dead, and nothing would ever be right again so what did anything matter?

Suddenly Ignis was there too, and Lunafreya. Why they were on the battlefield Prompto had no idea, but they were crowded around Noctis, then Ignis was asking him questions that he didn't know how to answer. He'd got Noctis home, what more did they want?

'I couldn't stop them. I tried to save him,' Prompto said, his voice hoarse, his cheeks stained with tears. 'I tried my best. I tried so hard…'

He felt himself slipping away, darkness trying to claim his mind. It was too much. All too much. But the last thing he heard, apart from Cor's triumphant cry of "we've got Idola!" was Ignis's voice, close to his ear, and a comforting hand on his back.

'He's not dead, Prompto. Noctis will be fine. We'll take care of you both now, just rest.'

-

As soon as he saw Prompto go limp in Gladiolus's arms, Ignis turned his attention back to Noctis. Bile rose in his throat and he found his hands trembling as he reached out for the prince, then drew his hand back, not wanting to touch him and cause him more injury. Yes, he was medically trained, but he'd never seen someone look quite as frail as Noctis looked, and the strange way his limbs splayed across the ground.

'He's really alive?' Gladiolus asked, his tone a cross between relief and disbelief.

'He's breathing,' Ignis said, 'so that counts as alive. For how long I'm not sure. We need to get him immediate medical attention. Prompto too, I have no idea what happened to him but he doesn't look well, either.'

Gladiolus shifted the slender blond in his arms, and held him a bit closer. 'Prom's tough, he'll be fine.' Whether he was saying that because it was true, or to reassure himself, Ignis wasn't sure.

Ignis inched a little closer to Noctis, and brushed dark hair back from his prince's face. There were dark circles under Noctis's eyes, and an even darker bruise marring his pale cheek just under his eye. Ignis finally allowed himself to touch his friend, trailing his fingertips over the razor sharp cheekbones and hollow cheeks. The skin beneath his touch was cold as ice. Noctis's lips were dry and cracked, and there was fresh red blood staining them from an injury to his ribs.

Ignis wanted nothing more than to check the younger man over for injuries, but out here on the grass in the middle of a battle was not the place. They needed to get Noctis to the safety of the castle while Cor cleaned up the fighting.

'We should get moving,' Gladiolus said, almost as if he'd read his thoughts. 'Shit. Poor kid…'

With a slow nod, Ignis reached down and gently slipped his arms under Noctis. Hoping there were no injuries he was going to make worse by moving him, he lifted the thin bundle into his arms, and held his friend close. Even though he was cold and filthy, Ignis held him as tightly as he dared, and pressed a kiss to Noctis's forehead. He was just glad to have him back. There had been so many dark moments over the last few weeks when he had managed to convince himself that Noctis was dead. But he was here now, safe and sound. And Ignis wasn't going to let go of him again.

His emerald gaze rose to the fighting; the white cloaks of Niflheim littered the grounds of Lucis, and shrieks of pain cut through the night. Ignis was glad. He wanted every one of them to suffer as his prince had suffered. And for those that were unlucky enough to be captured alive he would make sure they knew the true meaning of pain. Nobody hurt his prince and got away with it. Death would be a release for those bastards.


	8. Safe But Not Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is over. So why is nobody celebrating?
> 
> Noctis lays deeply asleep, and Prompto relives his time in Niflheim. The healing may turn out to be more painful than the injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very sorry about the lack of updates, I had one hell of a week or so! Work is just exhausting me, training for a 10k race (running tomorrow morning, please wish me luck!) and studying in addition to all the other things life throws at us.
> 
> Right, onto the chapter! A bit more angst in this one. And again a huge thank you to saki-san for beta reading and for the suggestion to add a bit more to Prom's main section. I ended up loving that section to bits, yay for hugs!
> 
> Seriously, from here on out the number of hugs will increase exponentially. Thank you to everyone who is reading this, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> And happy PAX Prime to everyone! Here's hoping for new snippets of news! ^^

Ignis had never run so fast in his life. His lungs burned, his arms ached, and his legs felt as if they were going to turn to jelly at any second, but he pressed on. The chill of the night air cut off abruptly as he made it into the palace, a warm light enveloped him and gave him the strength to carry on. The hallways were empty; any available soldier was out on the battlefield taking prisoners from the Niflheim army. They'd won the battle, but if Ignis didn't reach the healer's wing in time, then they'd have lost the war. If Noctis died, none of it would be worth it.

It was worrying that the prince didn't stir in his arms at all, despite how much he was being jostled about. Ignis held him tight as he turned and shouldered the door to the healer's open, the sterile scent of disinfectant assaulting him as he spun around wildly looking for someone to help.

'Ignis?' asked a rough, female voice. A tall, larger lady bustled out from behind a screen. As soon as she saw Ignis and the prince in his arms her jaw dropped rather comically. 'That's not…?'

Ignis glanced down at Noctis's face, then nodded. 'I'm afraid it is. Which bed would you like him on?'

'Oh Etro,' she whispered as she got a closer look. Then she was all business, stripping back blankets on the nearest bed and helping Ignis get Noctis comfortable. She called sharply for a couple of nurses and began checking Noctis's vital signs.

Ignis hovered. 'Will you be able to help him?'

'I've barely had a chance to look at him yet,' the healer admonished. 'But it's not going to be a straightforward case. You might want to go and get some rest and come back later. You need to take care of yourself, too.'

'I'm not leaving him,' Ignis said. 'Besides, you've got another patient coming.'

As if on cue the doors opened again and Gladiolus entered with Prompto unconscious in his arms.

The healer stood up sharply. 'Well I can't split myself in two. Put him down over there, I'll go and call Augustus. I don't know what's going on tonight, but I'm glad Mr Leonis told me to put extra staff on. We've already had a couple of wounded soldiers.'

'Expect more,' Ignis said grimly as he watched Gladiolus set the blond down on a bed. An elderly healer in white robes that drowned his thin frame hurried over to tend to Prompto.

Whispering brought his attention back to the prince, where the healer was conversing softly with the nurses. Ignis tried to hear what they were saying, but he needn't have bothered; as soon as the conversation was over the healer glanced up at him nervously. 'Obviously Prince Noctis doesn't have capacity to make his own medical decisions while unconscious, and his next of kin has also been taken ill.'

Ignis nodded, recalling how he had briefly seen King Regis, lying in a hospital bed looking grey and drawn. He had been sleeping, and Cor had refused to let him be disturbed. Ignis had found himself agreeing; King Regis didn't need to know about the Niflheim attack, it would only add to the stress that had contributed to his heart attack in the first place.

'You wish me to make his medical decisions?' Ignis asked, knowing full well that was what she was asking. And while Ignis knew that it was probably his job in these circumstances, seeing Noctis look so ill made him wonder exactly what decisions he might have to make.

'Firstly this… _band_ ,' the healer said, motioning the silver crown around Noctis's head. 'I don’t know what it is, but I'm going to take it off him.'

'Very well,' Ignis said, holding his breath as she slipped it off. Nothing happened. He had no doubt there was a reason for the metal band, but for the life of him he couldn't think what it could be.

'I'm going to be taking him in for surgery shortly, he has several broken ribs and a punctured lung. I think that it might have been left untreated for a while, his oxygen sats are low and I believe he may have some organ failure. I'll know more after we've got some blood results and scans done.'

Ignis nodded, watching as one of the nurses began taking blood from Noctis's pale arm. It took her a while to find a vein, and she finally had to take it from the back of Noctis's hand, where the skin was stretched tight over the bones. Ignis hated to think how many more bruises the young man was going to end up with as a result of the procedure.

'His leg is a tough one,' the healer continued. 'He has a gunshot wound just above the knee which has started to heal but has clearly been infected. I don’t know if-'

Ignis's heart skipped a beat and he looked up sharply. 'Do what it takes to treat it.'

The healer sighed, as if expecting the answer. 'He may have had it weeks, Ignis. Be reasonable. Rather he lose the leg than die from septicaemia.'

'He was shot before he ever left Lucis. If it hasn't killed him yet then he has a good chance.' At least that's what he told himself. Because the thought of Noctis waking up to find that his leg had been amputated was too much to bear. Ignis felt dizzy as he looked down at Noctis, lying so still and vulnerable. He pressed himself up against the rails of the bed and reached over to stroke a hand through Noctis's hair. 'He's been through enough. Please treat the wound as best you can.'

The healer's lips thinned as she held her words back. 'Very well. We'll do what we can. But there will be a risk.'

Ignis leaned down and pressed a kiss to Noctis's forehead. 'He'll be fine. He won't leave us, not now that we've got him back.'

-

When Prompto finally woke up, it took every ounce of control he had not to panic. He had no idea where he was, where Noctis was, what was happening…

There was loud beeping in his ears, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to get enough air. He sat up quickly and felt something tug at his arm. There was a needle stuck in his elbow, and he was wearing pyjamas.

'Whoa there, lay still for a second will ya?'

A warm hand pressed on his shoulder and encouraged him back to the pillows. Prompto felt a little calmer as he looked over to Gladiolus, who was watching him with concern, his hands still hovering as if he might have to push Prompto down again.

'You good?' Gladiolus asked.

The beeping was starting to slow down, and Prompto recognised it as a heart monitor. It was reacting to him, and his panic. Prompto could have laughed; he was surprised it wasn't beeping like crazy, he still felt terrified. 'Where's Noct? What happened?'

'Noctis is safe, okay? Calm down,' Gladiolus instructed, in a slow, soothing voice. A large hand came to rest on top of his head, and Prompto closed his eyes briefly, trying to concentrate on the feel of warm fingers playing with his hair. 'There you go. Noct is here, being treated just like you are. You're not going to help him by getting yourself worked up. Best thing you can do for him right now is rest up and feel better, alright?'

'I feel better,' Prompto insisted. 'Can I go and see him? Where is he?'

'He…' Gladiolus broke off, trying to think of the best way to phrase "Noctis has been rushed in for life saving surgery" without panicking the blond further.

'He's currently being treated by the healers,' Ignis said, entering the room with a tray of drinks. 'I thought you might wake up soon so I brought you something too. Do you feel up to drinking? The drip isn't really enough to sustain you.'

Prompto glanced down at the needle again, then at the tray of drinks Ignis was carrying. The warm, sweet smell of hot chocolate wafted over. As much as he wanted it, though, he couldn't help but think of Noctis. And how his best friend had been unable to eat or drink a damn thing. His stomach clenched painfully. 'Noct…'

It was as if Ignis could read his mind. The bespectacled man handed a styrofoam cup of coffee to Gladiolus, set his own on the bedside table, then took a few moments to stir a sachet of sugar into Prompto's hot chocolate and handed it over. 'Noctis is being taken care of. Starving yourself will do him no good. You're undernourished yourself from your trip to Niflheim, you need to start eating and drinking properly again.'

Prompto looked down into the swirling drink. 'But he…he's so…'

'And as soon as he is able he will be put onto a special diet and given supplements. Unless you want the same to happen to you, I suggest you don't starve yourself because you feel bad for him.' Ignis set a bag on the bed in Prompto's lap. 'I wouldn't normally promote sugary snacks, but in the circumstances the kitchen staff have been dismissed and I haven't really got time to make a balanced meal. However, Lunafreya apparently bakes when she's nervous, so now the kitchen is well stocked with various things.'

'Brownies?' Gladio asked hopefully, opening up the bag. 'Oh wow cookies, even better. Bless that girl. She's trying to compete for my heart with your mum, Iggy.'

'Now that _is_ a terrifying image,' Ignis said, adjusting his glasses. He held out the bag to Prompto. 'Please try to eat something, Prompto.'

'Bit of sugar might perk you up,' Gladio suggested, dunking his cookie in his coffee.

Prompto took one with trembling fingers, and stared at it for a long moment before finally allowing himself a bite. He felt guilty for being able to eat when Noctis couldn't, but as soon as he'd swallowed one bite suddenly the rest of it was gone as he realised just how hungry he was. At Niflheim there hadn't really been much food available, and he'd spent most of his time either with, or worrying about, Noctis.

'That's more like the Prom we know and love,' Gladiolus said squeezing his shoulder gently, then returning to his own impromptu late night snack.

Prompto drank his hot chocolate thoughtfully, glancing between his friends. It wasn't that he didn't believe them, but he could tell that there was something they were hiding. That they weren't weeping messes or more shell shocked assured him that Noctis was still breathing, but just because he was breathing didn't mean he was alive. Prompto knew that the slave crown had messed with Noctis's head. How much of the prince was left? Was there anything salvageable at all?

'Has he woken up yet?' Prompto asked.

'Not yet,' Ignis said. 'He's currently in surgery.'

'Oh,' Prompto said. His heart felt like someone had gripped it in their fist, and suddenly the hot chocolate felt sickly in his mouth. 'Is he going to be okay?'

'Lucis has the best healers and the best equipment,' Ignis said.

That wasn't answering his question. But Prompto didn't want to press; he didn't want to stress Ignis out more than the man already was, and he didn't want to make a liar out of him. He knew he could get Ignis to say that Noctis would be fine, but then what if he wasn't? What if…

'Stop thinking,' Gladiolus said suddenly. 'I can see you thinking horrible thoughts, so stop right now. We've got him back. We've got you back. We're all here now, we're together and we're safe. Niflheim has been stopped, we're not at war anymore for the first time in any of our living memory. Things are getting better.'

Prompto nodded, and tried to calm himself down a little bit. He knew that rationally. He knew that Noctis was in the best place if he was going to stand a chance of recovery. 'Have you taken the slave crown off him yet?'

Gladiolus and Ignis exchanged glances.

'The slave _what?_ ' Gladiolus said, a deep frown creasing his brow. 'The hell is that?'

'Do you mean the silver band on his head?' Ignis asked.

'Yeah, the slave crown,' Prompto said, sipping his hot chocolate again. There wasn't much left. And the cookies were leaving him feeling hungry for actual food, even though his stomach was twisting painfully from worry. 'It's something from Niflheim. I don't understand exactly how it works, but when you wear it you can't do anything for yourself. You just look like a blank doll. And then you have to obey any commands that the person in control of the crown gives you. It's how Idola was able to make Noct do the things he did, and why Noct couldn't fight back and try to escape. And why he couldn't sleep or eat or anything. He just…he'd lay there, and he wouldn't say a word. It was scary.'

A hand slipped into his, and squeezed. Prompto squeezed back, and swallowed back tears.

'Well it's off now, so he should be fine,' Ignis said.

'No, see that's what I thought. But I think it's broken him. When I tried taking it off last time there wasn't any difference. He still wouldn't talk to me or do anything. Asta said that it was never meant to be used for such a long period of time, and…there might be brain damage or something. I don't know. I was hoping he might have woken up for you guys.'

'Well, he's been sedated for the operation, so maybe that's why?' Gladiolus said in a soothing voice. 'Why don't we let the poor guy get over his physical injuries before we start worrying about that, yeah? He might surprise us all and wake up and be his usual bratty self.'

'Yeah…' Prompto said, and swirled the remnants of his hot chocolate around in the bottom of his cup. The warmth of the hospital room was so different to the chill of the cell, the contrast hit him hard. It felt wrong that he should feel so safe now, especially when Noctis still wasn't out of the woods. Especially after what he had done…He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the sound of the gun firing in his hand, aiming at Noctis…and of the bullet hovering inches from Noctis's skull, saved only by a magical barrier from Asta.

Suddenly a weight hit him from the side, and strong arms slipped around him. The cup was taken from his grasp, and another body hugged him from the other side. Despite himself, Prompto found himself smiling and his eyes dampening. He let himself enjoy the hug, let himself be enveloped in their arms, and soaked up their love.

'We're glad you're back, Prom,' Ignis whispered.

'Damn right we are,' Gladiolus said gruffly, and Prompto was pretty sure he could feel tears falling into his hair. Even Gladiolus was crying.

Prompto's throat felt tight, as if it was swelling shut. He swallowed hard, and sniffed back tears. He didn't deserve to cry. 'You shouldn't be glad.'

'What are you talking about?' Gladiolus asked, pulling back slightly and rubbing a gentle circle on his friend's back. 'Course we're glad to have you back. You belong here with us, Prom. We're your family.'

Prompto chocked out laugh that was more of a sob. 'No. My family is Niflheim. Idola…he…he's my grandfather. He sent me to Lucis when I was a kid to be a spy for Niflheim.'

Ignis pulled back too slightly, observing the pale man in his arms. He lifted an elegant hand to wind locks of blond hair behind Prompto's ear. 'Well, that I certainly wasn't expecting. Though it does answer my questions about how you were able to integrate so easily into Niflheim.'

'Yeah. I'm royalty. I've got that rotten blood in my veins. He's my grandfather, I'm a traitor of Lucis, I tried to kill…oh Etro I…you don't understand what it was like, I _had_ to. I had to or they'd have killed me and then I wouldn’t have been able to get him out.' Suddenly Prompto shot to the side and grabbed Ignis's shirt in his trembling hands.

'Prom, calm down,' Ignis soothed, cupping the young man's cheek with his palm and wiping a tear trail with the pad of his thumb.

'How can I calm down? I'm a dirty, bloody filthy traitor. How can you even _look_ at me? I was there, and I couldn't get him out. I couldn't get him to eat or drink, all I could do was watch them kill him, Ignis. They were killing him, letting him starve and die and I got to eat in the cafeteria. Do you know how goddamn hard it was to swallow anything when I knew he was in his coma down in the dungeons? I thought if I went to Niflheim I could help him, but I couldn't do a damn thing. I couldn't get messages back to Lucis because the king wouldn't answer his phone. All I could do was sit there and hold his hand. I should have killed Idola. I should have shot him in his sleep or something. But I didn't do anything. And I…when he was…I shot…oh Etro…'

By now tears were streaming down his cheeks and his eyes were red and puffy. His thin chest heaved with sobs and Ignis was all but cradling him in his arms, rocking him back and forth to ride out the hysteria.

Ignis glanced up helplessly to Gladiolus, who pushed himself up onto the bed and swept both men up in a bear hug. 'Hey, s'okay little guy. It's okay. Nobody is saying you should have done any differently. You were alone in Niflheim, right in the heart of it all. You were there for him, that's all that matters. You did your best and you watched out for him. He's alive, ain't he? You must have done something right. Even if you were holding his hand, it meant he wasn't alone. He had a friend in there.'

'Don't! Don't do this!' Prompto screamed, trying to squirm away from them but unable to find the strength. Instead he collapsed against Ignis and let himself be enveloped in undeserved warmth and love. 'You shouldn't be holding me like this. I _shot_ him. I shot Noctis. I took a gun and I shot him in the head because my stupid bloody cousin told me to. What the hell kind of friend does that? I could have killed him. Let go of me. Just _let go of me right now!'_

'Not happening,' Gladiolus said sadly.

'Quite. Right now I wouldn't trust you alone with yourself,' Ignis said, swallowing hard and processing the information.

'I saw a shit load of injuries on him, but I don't remember a gunshot wound to the head,' Gladiolus said. 'Are you sure you shot him?'

'I shot him. I shot him and I pulled the trigger and it went for his head and I'm a goddamn idiot. I should have just shot myself instead.'

'Don’t' say that. _Never_ say that,' Ignis said sharply. 'His highness doesn't have a head wound like that, I assure you. Prompto, whatever you think you did, you didn't hurt him. Please calm down, you're not well.'

'Doesn't matter that it didn't hit him. Asta put up a shield. But I trusted an enemy to help Noctis, just so I could save myself from Dante killing me. Dante said shoot, I pulled the trigger. It's as good as killing him, right? Even if I didn't hit him, the bullet was aimed at his head. Oh Etro…'

Gladiolus shook the young man by the shoulders, then drew him close, pressing their foreheads together. 'You were in Niflheim. In the dungeons. You were scared, you wanted to protect Noct. You couldn't have done that if they'd killed you as a traitor. Now, all that other shit doesn't matter. Got it? You're no spy. You're no traitor to Lucis. I know you, Prom. I've know you since you were this weedy little kid that used to get Noct in all sorts of trouble. You've been glued to his side ever since, and you love him to bits. You'd never do anything to hurt him. It was a stressful situation and you did what was best. And if you want to try and argue otherwise, I'm up for arguing all night long. But you need sleep, and you need to stop these stupid thoughts of yours, alright? You did good, Prom. Why can't you see that?'

Prompto swallowed hard, and shivered a little despite the warmth of the room. 'But I…'

'You may very well have saved his life, Prom. Niflheim is a dangerous place to be in alone. You being there may have saved him. Thank you for going, and for risking yourself. You did an amazing job. But now you need to rest, and you need to relax. I'll go and see if I can get something, I'll just be a moment.'

Prompto swallowed again and nodded, missing Ignis's warmth as soon as he was gone. Instead he leaned further against Gladiolus's chest, closing his eyes as a large hand gently ran up and down his spine.

'What, did you go on hunger strike while Noct was in Niflheim?' Gladiolus asked. 'You're skinny as hell.'

'Didn't really feel like eating much,' Prompto mumbled.

'Well you're back now, no excuses. You'll need your strength if you want to help Noct.'

'Am I allowed to? After what I did-'

'I can say it a million times, Prom. You helped him, alright? You were there for him. You didn't do anything wrong.'

'Okay,' Prompto whispered.

Ignis returned a few moments later with some pills and a glass of water. Gladiolus sat Prompto back against his pillows so that he could take them.

'What am I eating here?' Prompto asked, even though he had already swallowed them. He trusted Ignis without question.

'A few things to help calm you down,' Ignis said as he brushed the hair away from Prompto's eyes. 'Diazepam and Citalopram. And something to help you sleep, too.'

'Okay,' Prompto said, and sank back into his pillows. Each of his hands were taken and he squeezed them gently, glad that his friends were there. Even if he didn't deserve to be with them. The last thing he saw before he drifted off was the bullet hovering in the shimmering air.

-

'I should probably go and make sure the war prisoners are being properly entered onto the systems,' Ignis mused, though he didn't move from his seat on the hard plastic chair beside the hospital bed.

'I'm sure Cor is doing a fine job,' Gladiolus said, leaning against the back of the chair he was sitting in wrong ways. His massive forearms were crossed along the top of it and his cheek rested on his arms as he watched the tiny figure on the bed struggling for each breath through a respirator.

Noctis had been in their care for seven hours, since they'd found him half dead on the battlefield. Intravenous drips gave the prince nutrients, fluids and medicines, and wounds had been assessed. Scans showed pneumonia in Noctis's lungs, which had also been damaged by the broken ribs. He was on drugs to help support his organs, and antibiotics to treat the various infections ravaging his body. Slashes across his wrists were already half healed and a few of the deeper wounds were infected. They would scar badly. The breaks had been healed as best they could considering they were several days old. The gunshot wound in his leg had been debrided of dead tissue, but the bullet was lodged in bone and as healing had begun the option to leave it in situ had been taken. Though the healers were still going to observe it, they conceded that the need for amputation had been a low risk. Ignis was still insistent that nobody came close to Noctis with a bone saw, however.

Ignis's hand lifted to play with Noctis's bangs. His fingers brushed the heated skin of the prince's forehead, and his worry returned afresh. Noctis was suffering from several infections, and was on a cocktail of antibiotics to treat everything.

'You think he'll pull through?' Gladiolus asked in a small voice.

'Of course he will,' Ignis said quickly. 'He's our prince, he has to.'

'I have literally never seen anyone look as thin as this. I'm scared to touch him,' Gladiolus said.

'He won't break. Not more than he already is,' Ignis said, letting dark strands of hair sift through his fingers. The healers had washed Noctis, and now he smelled of soap and shampoo. Clean, healthy scents, despite the fact he now looked even paler than ever. The dark bruises on his face stood out harshly.

'You thinking about what Prom said?' Gladiolus asked, rocking the chair a little, a nervous habit.

'He could still be sleeping off the sedation,' Ignis pointed out. 'And he's been through a lot. He sleeps a lot usually, if he's been denied rest from Niflheim then we can expect him to require a considerable amount of sleep while his body heals. There's no need to panic just yet.'

'But you are,' Gladiolus pointed out.

'Of course I am, he's one of my best friends,' Ignis said hollowly. 'I worry when he has a cold, I worry when he's late home after he's gone out with Prompto, I worry about whether he'll ever settle down and marry. I will be worried about him every day of my life.'

'You worry because you care,' Gladiolus said.

'Of course,' Ignis responded, his hand trembling in Noctis's hair. He'd never had to worry quite this much before, though.

The door to the room opened, and both men turned to greet the visitor. When they saw who it was they sat up straighter.

'Your majesty. It's good to see you awake,' Ignis said, standing and moving his chair so that the king could get close to the bed.

Cor frowned from his position behind Regis's wheelchair, pushing the ashen king into the room. 'He shouldn't be up,' was all Cor had to say on the matter.

'My son is here, how could I rest in bed knowing that?' Regis asked, then when Cor wasn't pushing him fast enough he took control of the chair and wheeled himself close to the side of Noctis's bed. 'Etro…what have they done to you?' Regis whispered under his breath. He reached out a hand to take Noctis's, then drew back. Instead he lowered the rail on the side of the bed, pushed himself to his feet and sat on the edge of the white sheets.

'Your majesty-' Cor began, then decided it was futile.

Regis winced as his aching body protested the movements, but he slid himself closer to his son, then looked down at the mass of wires and tubes. His fingers gently ran across Noctis's cheek, taking comfort the warmth of the skin beneath his fingertips. Noctis was alive. For a while Regis had truly believed that a corpse would turn up on his doorstep. Or that Idola would murder Noctis publically, just to torture him. But for some reason Idola had actually kept Noctis alive, and now here he was. Back home. They had both been scarred, but their small family was back together.

Slowly, careful not to hurt his son, he manoeuvred the small man into his lap. For a second he worried about the IV working loose, but it stayed in place. The heart monitor didn't falter either. Regis sank back against the pillows, and held his son close to him. The boy - _man_ \- he had to keep reminding himself. Noctis was no longer the small boy in need of protection - was limp in his arms, and oh so thin and frail. It felt like he was holding a bird. He could feel the bones through the thin fabric of Noctis's pyjamas, and there wasn't really much to hold anymore. But he clung as tightly as he dared and held Noctis against his chest, letting his son's head fall to his shoulder and resting his chin on the soft dark hair.

When he opened his eyes he found the room empty, though he knew Cor would be outside the door. He was thankful; he was a king, and he didn't need them to see him crying. Tears were flowing down his cheeks as he nuzzled Noctis's hair, and ran his hand up and down Noctis's back.

'It's okay, son. I'm here now. You're back home. You're…you're really home…'

Regis could barely contain his happiness. They were by no means out of the woods, and he still needed to sort out the mess that Lucis had become, but he had his son back with him. So long as Noctis was there then he could get through anything.

-

'You're sure you're okay to be up?' Gladiolus asked. For the fifth time.

For the fifth time Prompto rolled his eyes. 'Physically nothing wrong with me. I was just a bit run down. I'm fine, I swear. I'm better here with him. It helps keep me calmer.' And compared to the last time they'd seen him awake Prompto was a _lot_ calmer. The drugs Ignis had given him were working miracles, though Ignis was quick to point out that he shouldn’t' stay on such high doses for too long.

Nobody was going to deny Prompto's wish, because they were guilty of wanting to stay close to the prince. It had been nearly eighteen hours since Prompto and Noctis had been brought into the healer's wing of the castle, and Noctis was still sleeping away. There was nothing stopping him waking up, the healers said, and insisted that the man simply needed rest.

Prompto wasn’t so sure. The knot of worry in his stomach tightened with every passing minute, and he wondered if perhaps the crown had done more damage than was visible on the surface. He wondered, as he had done for days, whether Noctis was in there at all.

'Shall I get us more drinks?' Ignis asked. 'Something to eat?' Directed at Prompto.

'Iggy, love you man, but if you drink another cup of coffee you're going to end up in a hospital bed yourself. You're wired,' Gladiolus pointed out.

Ignis shuffled in his seat and noticed his foot was twitching. Perhaps he had been drinking too much ebony. 'Sorry. I'm just trying to think of productive things to do.'

'We know. But chill. He's not going anywhere, the monitors all say he's doing okay. And he's getting more drugs into him to help heal him. There's nothing more we can do. It took several weeks for him to get like this, he's not going to be fixed overnight.'

'I know. I do know,' Ignis said.

Prompto leaned to the side and rested against Ignis. 'Maybe you should go and bake with Luna for a bit?'

'I heard the cooks kicked her out after she used up all the eggs. The palace won't be short of cookies, cakes and doughnuts for weeks,' Gladiolus said. Then his face split into a grin. 'Wanna go raid them for some snacks?'

Prompto considered it briefly. He was starting to feel a bit more like himself and his usual self ate when he was worried. He still remembered his high school final exams when he had eaten a whole bag of pixie sticks and been sugar high for his maths exam. To this day he couldn't remember a single number he had written, but he'd doubled his best score from his mock exams.

He had been about to answer when he noticed something the others hadn't. He sprang up away from Ignis, and leaned over the rail of Noctis's bed, his heart thumping against his ribs. 'Noct? Noct? Can you hear me, buddy?'

Gladiolus was peering over the other side of the bed moments later, and Ignis huffed as he tried to get in close, too.

'Maybe he can't hear us?' Gladiolus said, gently reaching out to tap Noctis's cheek. There was no reaction.

Prompto's stomach clenched painfully, even with the medication he had taken to calm his nerves he was still getting his painful panic attacks. 'He's…maybe we…' Prompto was out of options. This was exactly what he had feared. That Noctis would be catatonic within his own body, alive but not really with them any longer.

Suddenly Noctis's body twitched, and his eyes flew open then slowly drifted closed.

'Sorry,' Ignis said, when the other two men looked at him. He'd reached down and pinched Noctis's arm painfully. 'But he moved at least.'

Prompto had to agree that was positive. Sort of. There was lots more name calling and cheek tapping, though after fifteen minutes they sat down for a break. Noctis was more interested in the ceiling than them, blinking slowly every so often as and when his body remembered to do it.

Prompto swallowed back the lump in his throat, and leaned his forehead against the cool metal railing. 'I knew it. I knew he was gone. I told you he was dead. We can keep his body going but what's the point when Noct is gone? I should have…there must have been something I could have done…'

Ignis pulled him from the chair into his lap, and rocked him gently. 'Don't do this to yourself. Prompto, you saved his life. You kept him safe, you brought him back. It hasn't been long, give him time, alright? He's been through a lot. He just needs time-'

'Uh guys? We have movement,' Gladiolus said, rising from his seat and moving closer to Noctis. Whose eyes had moved from the ceiling to Gladiolus. 'Hey little guy, can you hear me?'

Noctis blinked slowly, as if his eyes were sore. His eyes seemed to shift between blue and grey as they caught the light.

'Highness?' Ignis asked, reaching past Prompto to touch the backs of his fingertips against Noctis's cheek.

As soon as he made contact, however, Noctis reacted. His eyes widened and he made a little terrified squeak as he attempted to recoil from the touch. His heart monitor went haywire, and his whole body trembled.

'Whoa, easy there, easy Noct,' Gladiolus said, without thinking reaching out to rest a comforting hand on Noctis's arm.

Noctis cried out, his voice muffled behind the oxygen mask, but it was a definite cry of terror. He made whimpering sounds as he tried to burrow under the covers.

'What…what's he doing?' Prompto wondered aloud.

'I think he's afraid,' Ignis said, swallowing hard. 'Highness? It's alright, It's us. You're safe now, you're back in Lucis. You're in the palace right now, in the healers wing. Do you understand what I'm saying?'

Noctis's breathing was harsh, and misted the plastic of his mask. His lips were moving but no sound came out, until he cried out again, whether in pain or fear it was impossible to say.

For a few long minutes nobody moved. It was almost as if they had a cornered wild animal, and any sudden movements would scare it off. Eventually Prompto tried, slowly moving his hand obviously toward Noctis's hand.

'I'm gonna touch you, okay Noct? Really gently. I won't hurt you. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore. We're your friends, remember?'

Noctis just watched him with wide eyes, and followed the hand with his gaze until it touched his skin. Then he freaked out again, pulling away almost violently and crying as tears trailed down his cheeks.

Gladiolus looked up helplessly. 'Well, what do we do?'

Ignis sat back in his chair, and pulled the glasses from his face. He rubbed his temples tiredly. 'I don't know. He's still in pain, still scared. Perhaps something a little stronger to keep him calm would do him some good.'

Prompto's hand still hung where he had tried to reach out for Noctis. He wasn't so sure. There was something strange in Noctis's eyes, something foreign. Noctis wasn't scared of being touched, he was scared of being touched by _them_. Because there was no light of recognition. Noctis had been reset.

'Noct?' Prompto asked, though the man didn't react to his name, he was still staring at him wide eyed. 'Do you know who I am?' Prompto asked.

Noctis was still for a very long time, until finally he moved. And shook his head.


	9. Love Isn't Supposed to be Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love takes many forms, and the strongest bonds between friends and family are those that can withstand the ultimate trials that life throws at us.
> 
> Fortunately Noctis has very patient friends who will do anything for him, and a father that will spare no resources to get him well. Lucis and its inhabitants will start to heal. Slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Lots of fluff. Many fluffs. Fluffy fluffs at that. Because even if Noctis isn't happy about being touched, do you want to try and tell Prompto and Ignis that? Yeah, me neither.
> 
> Once again thanks to saki-san for beta reading!
> 
> And thank you to all of you, it really means a lot to me that people are taking the time to read! I hope you enjoy this chapter! ♥

'Highness?' Ignis said softly, reaching out a hand to touch the prince. As soon as his fingertips brushed the skin of Noctis's frail arm the prince drew back as if he'd been burned. The dark haired man was breathing rapidly, misting the mask of the ventilator strapped around his mouth.

'Noct? Come on, you're safe. It's okay little guy,' Gladiolus said, but he didn't try to reach out. It was clear how scared Noctis was; he had pressed himself back against the pillows, trying to get away from the three people sat around his bed gawping at him. The heart monitor beside him was firing off a mile a minute and he was trembling badly.

Ignis's heart broke as he ached to gather the prince up in his arms, but right now it would probably do more harm than good. Noctis was sick and injured, exhausted both mentally and physically. The last thing he needed was to be stressed out by having people touch him when he wasn't ready for it. Instead Ignis set his hand firmly on the plastic rail of Noctis's hospital bed so that the prince could see he wasn't going to try and grab for him.

Prompto had been silent for several minutes, just watching Noctis carefully. Finally he spoke again. 'You really don't remember us?' He ignored the warning look Ignis sent him.

'Prompto, he's just woken up. He has a high fever and he's probably disoriented. It's not fair to expect him to be entirely lucid just yet,' Ignis said.

'Iggy, _look_ at him,' Prompto said. 'He knows what he's saying.'

'He's not technically saying anything,' Gladiolus pointed out.

Noctis whimpered and backed up further against the pillows. When he realised he couldn't go any further his shaking got worse.

'Guys, we're scaring him,' Prompto said, noticing Noctis's distress. On instinct he reached out but that just made Noctis panic further.

The dark haired man slipped off the side of his pillow and nearly hit his head on the plastic rail of the bed but Gladiolus was there to catch him and sit him up straight again. 'Well, this is going to be a whole new level of difficult.'

'Noct, it's okay, really,' Prompto tried again. But Noctis didn't even turn at the sound of his name.

'I see,' Ignis said.

'Please tell me this is a good "I see"?' Gladiolus said.

'I'm afraid not.' Ignis adjusted his glasses and leaned forward in his seat a little so that he could wave in front of the prince's face to get his attention. 'Do you know who you are?'

Once again the words took a moment to sink in, then Noctis's head jerked once from side to side.

Ignis exhaled slowly. 'Your name is Noctis Lucis Caelum.'

The three friends studied Noctis for some spark of recognition, but there was none.

'You're a prince,' Prompto said. 'You live in the palace here in Insomnia.'

Noctis blinked at Prompto for a few seconds but there was no light in his eyes to say he was understanding any of it.

'And we're your friends. We look after you,' Gladiolus added.

Noctis stared at each of them in turn, then looked down at his arms. They were wrapped in thick bandages to cover the slices on his wrists. Above them he had needles in each elbow, and it was at those he started to focus. With his left hand he began to gently tug at the needle stuck in his right arm.

'No no, you mustn't do that,' Ignis said, gently pulling Noctis's hand away from the needle. Noctis didn't flinch, but he didn't seem happy either and pulled his hand away. Instantly it tried to go back to tug at the needle again.

'Noct, you need that. Look, it's putting medicine and stuff in you,' Prompto explained, picking up the tube and showing it to Noctis.

It had the desired effect of distracting Noctis from removing the needle, but instead Noctis reached out for the tube and began trying to make a loop out of it.

'Uh, can he break that?' Gladiolus asked nervously.

'It should be alright, but it won't filter through properly if its kinked,' Ignis said, and pulled it out of Noctis's hands. 'Sorry Highness, but it's not a toy.'

Noctis fell back against the pillows after that, and without stimulation stared out into the space at the foot of his bed.

'Noct?' Prom asked, but Noctis didn't move. 'Noctis?' He tried again. Still no reaction.

Ignis waved his hand again and instantly Noctis's head snapped around. 'Highness?'

'Noctis?' Prompto said at the same time.

Noctis just blinked at them in confusion.

'That's you, little guy,' Gladiolus said. 'Your name is Noctis, remember?'

Slowly, very slowly, Noctis shook his head.

'This could be problematic,' Ignis said delicately.

Prompto just frowned. 'We already told him his name.'

'He's having trouble retaining anything. Again, I hasten to point out that he's only just woken up and has a fever-'

'I sense there's a "but" coming,' Gladiolus said, resisting the urge to reach out for Noctis's hand. More than anything he wanted to reassure his friend. It hurt him to see the prince looking so scared and helpless, yet he was unable to offer him any comfort.

'But,' Ignis said pointedly. 'We don't know what that metal band did to him. It might be worth studying it to see what we can learn. Or…'

'Asking the prisoners,' Prompto finished for him. 'Asta would know. He might help.'

'Why the hell would any of those Niflheim dogs help us?' Gladiolus said angrily.

'Asta's different. Weird different, but different. I bet if we made him an offer he'd tell us what we needed to know.'

Gladiolus just looked at Prompto as if he'd grown another head. 'You want to free one of the Niflheim prisoners?'

'Maybe not free him, just move him somewhere nicer. Or t least promise not to execute him.' Prompto held his hands up in surrender. 'Hey, I hate them just as much as you. Trust me, I watched them killing Noct for weeks. But Asta really was different. And he was the one that stopped my bullet from hitting Noct.'

Gladiolus's amber eyes rose to meet Ignis's, and they exchanged a silent war which ended with Gladiolus sighing and sitting back heavily in his chair. 'Fine. Ask him. But if it doesn't help Noct then I'm reserving the right to rearrange his jaw with my fist.'

'If he doesn't help Noct then you can damn well wait in line behind me to smash his face in,' Prompto said darkly.

-

It was proving to be a very long day for King Regis. Since he was starting to feel better he had ordered his advisors to begin bringing him work. Papers to pour over; lists of prisoners, requests from the common people whose lives had been destroyed. There were reports of unrest in the kingdom and reports of damage sustained to major buildings. Cor and the advisors had done the best they could, but with Niflheim also attacking them things had been fragmented. Not anymore; Regis was determined to set his kingdom back on the right path.

A healer was taking his blood pressure while he sipped green tea (apparently caffeine was bad for his health, though he was determined to resume his coffee habit once the healers weren't fussing over him). A report on the state of their power grid was in his lap, and he mused over the best way to go about making it right. Half the kingdom was still without electricity. He was about to put his signature to a proposal by one of his advisors when the door to his private room opened.

'Apologies, Your Majesty,' Ignis said, bowing his head.

'It's alright Ignis, please come in,' Regis said, setting the paper aside for the time being.

'Your blood pressure is back within normal range, Your Majesty,' the healer said.

'Of course it is. I feel stronger now than I did when I was twenty.'

The healer shook her head and wrote something on his chart. 'Please try not to overdo it.'

'Would I ever?' Regis answered as she left the room. His smile slipped as Ignis took a seat. 'It's about Noctis, isn't it?'

'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'Well he's not dead, or you'd be looking a lot worse.'

'No, Majesty. Not dead,' Ignis said carefully.

Regis studied the young man before him; the man he had brought to Lucis in order to train to protect and guide his young son. From an early age he'd known that Noctis would need strength of loyal allies to keep him safe, and now more than ever he thanked Etro he had taken measures to ensure his son had friends as good as these. 'Are you taking care of yourself, Ignis?'

The question seemed to catch the bespectacled man off guard, and he blinked a few times as if assessing it for some deeper meaning. 'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'You look tired.'

'We all are,' Ignis said sadly. 'There's a lot of work to be done and fewer people to carry it out. We've lost a lot of good people.'

'Too many,' Regis agreed. 'But we also have an end to this damned war. Never again will Idola's madness destroy lives.'

Ignis weighed the words in his mind, and swallowed hard. 'Unfortunately it seems his legacy may live on. The prince is…having a few memory issues. We think it may be due to something called a slave crown. When the prince was brought in he was wearing a silver band around his head, but at first we didn't quite grasp its significance.'

'He's awake?' Were Regis's first words, and the urge to throw the covers off his legs and rush to his son was almost more than he could bear. But there were questions he wanted answered first. 'What kind of memory issues?'

'He's still in a rather delicate state, he wasn't awake for long and he was rather agitated. But he didn't know who we were, and didn't seem to know his own name. Even once we told him he couldn't retain the information for very long, suggesting memory impairment. However as I said he may have been disoriented waking up in hospital and on medication.'

Regis sank against his pillows. The green tea swirling in his cup wasn't going to be strong enough, he decided, and instead he motioned for Ignis to hand over the mug he was holding. Ebony coffee, glorious. Regis took a long sip of the bitter, dark liquid and let it course through his body before he spoke again. 'I trust you more than I trust some of these healers, Ignis. Do _you_ think we have anything to worry about? Does he just need more time, or…?'

'I would recommend speaking with a certain prisoner. Prompto says the man has a wealth of information on the slave crown and that he might be more willing to share his knowledge than any of the others. I consider it worthwhile; there may be something we can do now, and waiting may reduce its effectiveness.'

'Of course. Interrogate whomever you see fit.'

'Thank you, Your Majesty. I also believe that it might be a good idea to run a few scans. Just to…check. Prompto mentioned that someone had thrown around the prospect of brain damage from prolonged use of the crown, but of course I'm not suggesting-'

The king lifted a hand to silence Ignis. Feeling weary to his bones, Regis simply nodded. 'Just do what you need to do. If he is…if there is…' Regis sighed and almost laughed at himself, being unable to get the words out. 'If there is any damage, and any lasting effects from it, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.'

'Very good, Your Majesty,' Ignis said, standing to leave.

'Ignis?'

'Yes?'

'Did he say anything? When he was awake did h mention anything at all?'

'I'm sorry, Your Majesty. He didn't say anything.'

Regis nodded, and lifted the cup. 'Sorry for stealing your coffee.'

Ignis smiled. 'Your need is greater than mine. I can get another cup.'

As the door closed with a little click Regis suddenly felt the weight of the nation tumble down onto him. He glanced at the reports and petitions. So many people lost and desperate, all looking to him. Yet he couldn't even help the one person he loved more than anything else in the world. Angrily he shoved the papers off the little table by his bedside, and took a brief flash of pleasure seeing them flutter to the ground. Why should they rebuild their lives when his own was falling to pieces around him? Why could he not just have his son back and be allowed to be happy? Why did this always happen to Noctis?

Before he knew it there were tears in his eyes, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. There was nobody to see the king breaking down.

When his breathing finally returned to normal, and there were no more tears to fall, he felt better. Cleansed. Slowly he got out of bed and picked up the papers, taking care to sort them into their correct order. He picked himself up, and he started again.

And he kept reminding himself: Noctis was here. Noctis was safe. No matter what happened now, his son was alive. Whatever else happened didn't matter, so long as he had his son. Even if his son didn't remember him. He would still cherish him and love him unconditionally.

-

Technically he was supposed to be in bed. Technically he was supposed to be asleep. Technically he was supposed to be leaving Noctis alone to get some rest. There were a lot of technicalities in play here, but Prompto still found himself unable to sleep so he climbed out of the narrow, uncomfortable hospital bed and padded down the hall to Noctis's room. He paused at the door to make sure nobody was inside, then slid the door open and slipped in before anybody could see him.

For a moment he stood by the door, just watching Noctis as the prince lay under sheets almost as white as his skin. Noctis was staring up at the ceiling, clearly not taking the healer's advice to sleep. A dark bruise flourished on Noctis's cheek just below the eye, but it was starting to fade to purple from the dark black it had been. One of the prince's arms lay on top of the sheets across his abdomen, the bandages thick over the cuts. The oxygen mask still obscured the lower half of the dark haired man's face, and every raspy breath Noctis drew echoed in the plastic mask.

Prompto half wished he could turn around and leave. Seeing Noctis look so frail and sick scared him to his core. But he knew that if he was scared, then Noctis was terrified. And he wasn't going to leave his friend alone like that. Mustering up as much courage as he could, Prompto strode over to the curtains and pulled them back, then turned a bright smile to his friend.

'Rise and shine, sleepy head.'

It was how he had greeted Noctis every morning since he could remember. And Noctis would always grumble, bury himself under the covers and mutter something about wanting five more minutes.

Today Noctis turned to look at him blankly, and then squinted at the sunlight in his eyes. He didn't even have the strength to raise a hand to block it out.

Prompto drew one of the chairs over to the side of the bed and sat close to the plastic rails. 'Sheesh, you look even worse in daylight. No offence.'

Noctis didn't seem to be offended. Nor did he seem particularly interested.

This would be where Prompto would normally launch himself at his friend in a hug. All the times Noctis had been sick or hurt before Prompto could help make him feel better with physical contact. But not this time. It hurt to know that his touch would only make things worse, but this was new, uncharted territory. This was a Noct he didn't know, one that operated under a different set of rules.

'So. They said they'd let me out of the hospital tomorrow. Good news, huh? It'll be nice to see my bedroom again, I've almost forgotten what it looks like.'

Noctis blinked, but didn't look away from him. That was a start.

'Next we'll work on them letting you out, yeah? Bet you can't wait to be rid of these four walls. I know you hate hospitals, so as soon as you're stable I'm sure they'll move you to your room. You might have to put up with healers coming in and out, but at least you'll be somewhere a bit more comfortable. These beds suck, right?'

Noctis glanced down briefly at his sheets, then back at Prompto curiously.

'Yep. I'm guessing your room is as untidy as you left it. Unless Iggy has been at it. Oh god, what if he's gone into mother hen mode and cleaned both our rooms? Man, I hope he doesn't find my stash. You know the one? Under the mattress. Oh god, I'd die of embarrassment!'

Noctis tipped his head to the side.

'You know the first thing I'm going to do when I get out of hospital?'

There was a delay, but Noctis's head moved, as if shaking his head in answer to the question.

'I'm going down to the dungeons. We've got a whole load of Niflheim prisoners down there, and there's this guy that might know how to help you. I'm going to beat it out of him if I have to, but I'll find out everything he knows about the slave crown and what it's done to you. He said he'd downloaded information on it, I'm going to get every last bit of data. Then the healers can figure out how to fix you and get your memories back.'

Noctis was watching him. He wasn't just looking in his direction, Prompto was _sure_ that Noctis was actively watching him with interest.

'There must be some way to reverse this or make it better. I'll do anything it takes to help you, Noct. We all will. I know you're scared and you don't even know who I am right now. Hell, you probably don't know who you are. And I can't even begin to imagine how scary that must be. But just try to remember that you've got three friends who would do anything for you. We'll look out for you and keep you safe. We'll be your memory even if you don't get yours back.'

Yep, Noctis was definitely watching him and listening. So Prompto made his move. Slowly he had been inching his hand across the bed, and now he snatched the last few inches and slipped his hand over Noctis's thin one. Noctis didn't flinch, didn't even seem to notice. Prompto's heart was racing, though, scared that he would terrify Noctis. But it was fine. Nothing had happened. He smiled and ran his thumb over Noctis's knuckles.

'Yeah. Things are gonna be okay. I promise, Noct. I promise.'

-

'Obviously we would have preferred an MRI, but with the bullet in his leg and not knowing if there are other bullet wounds they've allowed to heal…' the healer trailed off with a helpless shrug.

Ignis nodded and glanced down at the prince lying in his bed. The healer was pushing him down the corridors toward the small radiology department, but it seemed Noctis had fallen asleep halfway there. Either that or he was just resting his eyes, it was hard to tell. The dark circles under Noctis's eyes indicated that his friend wasn't sleeping well at all. Ignis decided that he would have words with the healer after the scan about upping Noctis's sedation.

'The CT scan will be sufficient,' Ignis said. At least he hoped so. If it was completely clear then Ignis would be a lot happier. If there were any abnormalities, however, Ignis wasn't quite sure what he would do. Panic was the logical choice, but he had to stay strong. He knew that Prompto was hanging on by a thread and despite his tough mask Gladiolus was terrified. The tank was used to being able to have something tangible to fix, but with Noctis in such a fragile state it was a lot of waiting around and uncertainty. And as for King Regis, Ignis was worried that despite the man's calm exterior having to deliver the news that his only family was brain damaged would probably set the king off on another heart attack.

Noctis's eyes drifted open as he was wheeled into the room. The large bed was parked beside the much narrower table of the CT scan, with its doughnut shaped scanner at the head. The healer disconnected the IV drips, heart monitor and oxygen mask, then began peeling back the covers. Ignis felt a tug at his heart as he was once again able to see the damage Niflheim had done. Dressed in a simple gown to make it easier to change him, Noctis looked like a skeleton. So narrow and all bones and angles. There were bruises and bandages everywhere, and his bony thigh was wrapped up where he had been shot. It seemed a million years ago when Ignis had watched his friend fall and be whisked away by the airship. So much had happened, and they'd all changed.

When the healer went to call someone to help her lift Noctis, Ignis waved her away. 'It's fine,' he assured her, and slipped his arms under Noctis. It was as if he were lifting a small child; there was simply no weight to the prince. He felt fragile and ethereal in his arms, almost as if he wasn't holding a real person at all. Noctis was sleepy, but still clearly uncomfortable with being moved. He didn't like being in someone's arms and struggled weakly and made little noises of protest until he was laid out on the CT bed. Then he fell still and silent again, but coughed weakly against the pneumonia ravaging his lungs.

As the healer began getting things prepared Ignis couldn't resist bending down to Noctis. The prince watched him with wary grey eyes, but Ignis ignored the look of fear and rested a hand against the top of Noctis's head and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Noctis's breathing sped up, but otherwise he didn't complain.

'It will be alright, Highness,' Ignis said. Noctis didn't look like he understood and Ignis berated himself for calling him "highness". The term was probably confusing matters.

'Ignis, can I ask you to come with me to the control room?' the healer asked.

With one last look at Noctis, Ignis left the room and followed the healer to a thin room with a bank of computers that overlooked the CT room. 'Control room sounds a bit upscale,' Ignis muttered as he took a seat.

The healer smiled. 'Yeah, well. It is what it is.'

There was a whir as the machine came to life, then the bed moved and Noctis was transported inside the machine. Ignis could see the young man's hands ball into tight fists, and could imagine the panic this was causing him.

The healer pointed to a microphone. 'You can talk to him if you want? Try to calm him down.'

'Maybe later.' Right now Ignis was sure that a disembodied voice would have the exact opposite effect, and Noctis didn't need to be stressed out further. He probably wouldn't recognise Ignis's voice anyway.

It seemed to take forever for anything to show up on the screen in front of them, but finally the image of a brain flashed up bit by bit, until the picture was complete. Ignis knew enough to know what he was looking at, but the subtleties evaded him.

The healer was silent for a few minutes as she studied the image, and that made Ignis twitchy. Was it a good silence, or a bad one? Surely if it was completely normal then she would have said so right away?

'Like I said, I'd have preferred and MRI,' the healer began. 'It can detect scarring, bruising and micro bleeds. But the CT scan is a start, and we can do repeats to check that nothing is getting worse.'

'Worse?' Ignis said, unable to help himself from interrupting. 'What's wrong?'

The healer grabbed a pen and pointed at the screen. 'See the lighter grey bit here on the right side?'

Ignis peered at the screen. Yes; there was a lighter grey bulge from the side of the skull impinging on the darker grey area.

'That light grey shouldn't be there. It's midline shift, swelling that's pressing on the brain and distorting it.'

Ignis's heart leapt to his throat. 'Shit. Sorry, I mean…shit,' Ignis said, unable to help himself. He wasn't one for swearing, but the thought of an injury like that in the prince was terrifying.

Ignis swallowed hard, and reached out to trace a finger over the damaged area. 'How do we fix it?'

The healer exhaled a long breath of air. 'Well, to be honest, it's not as bad as it could be. In any other patient I'd be borderline considering surgery, but knowing how unstable the prince is right now I recommend monitoring it. I don't think I'd like to put him through brain surgery unless I absolutely had to. We can do repeat CT scans to make sure it's not getting worse, but I'm guessing now that the crown is off that's unlikely.'

As much as he hated seeing an injury and doing nothing to fix it, Ignis had to agree. With his multiple infections and general ill health through malnourishment, dehydration and exhaustion, the prince was unlikely to withstand such invasive surgery.

A hand squeezed his shoulder, and Ignis realised he had been gripping the arms of his chair tight enough to cut off the circulation in his fingers.

'We'll keep an eye on him, Ignis. That's what we're here for.'

'Of course,' he said, but his voice wavered slightly.

Once Noctis was loaded back into bed the healer pushed him back to his room and reattached the various monitors and tubes. She performed a few more checks and then left them alone. Ignis hovered by Noctis's bedside, wanting nothing more than to gather the prince up in his arms to protect him from everything, but knowing that he couldn't. It broke his heart. Deciding that he needed caffeine, he left briefly to find a vending machine. The thick sludge was anything but Ebony, but it would have to do for now. He briefly considered visiting Prompto, then decided the blond needed his rest. Then he considered visiting King Regis, but knew that the king also needed rest. It was as he was considering calling Gladiolus that he realised he was stalling. He was scared to go back, scared to find Noctis crashing because of brain damage that they hadn't treated. Berating himself, he walked back to Noctis's room. If Noctis hadn't collapsed yet, then it was unlikely he was going to. The healer was right; with the crown off the swelling and bleeding were likely to only get better. There was nothing to worry about. Noctis was fine. That was his new mantra as he crossed the corridor and stepped into Noctis's room.

-

Noctis wasn't really sure of what to make of…well, anything, really. His memory was like a black hole and the more he tried to recall anything the further away things seemed to slip. It was frustrating and scary. Logically he knew he must have memories, but the process of even trying to dredge them up felt foreign. Nothing came naturally, nothing felt right.

He wasn't even sure how long he had been awake. He could vaguely remember voices and blurred images of people. So many people. And so many voices. And they were all so unfamiliar, and he didn't like that. Especially when people tried to touch him; though he had no memories of ever being touched, he found he didn't really like it. He never knew when somebody was about to do it, he couldn't predict who would and who wouldn't. And right now he didn't like surprises. He just wanted to know what was going on. Where he was. _Who_ he was. The feeling of loss carved a hole in his chest as he realised he had no idea about himself. He didn't even know what he looked like.

His leg throbbed. He pushed back the covers and noticed that his leg looked odd. Oh, there was something wrapped around it. Was a leg supposed to have that? Noctis poked at it.

'Ahh,' he winced, and decided not to poke it anymore.

Nobody was explaining anything to him, or if they did he couldn't remember it. He had vague recollections of snatches of conversations, but when he tried to recall them it was as if someone had muted them. And burned out the images of the faces.

And he hurt. Oh god he hurt. Every inch of his body hurt in some unique yet agonising way. But he couldn't form the words to tell anyone. So he'd lie there, scared of the people around him and unable to communicate his discomfort. Or to ask why he hurt. Or why he kept coughing. Or why he felt sick and dizzy and hot. Then cold. Then hot. His body would cycle between them with annoying frequency.

He tried to concentrate and will himself to remember things. Why was he alone? Was anyone coming back? He didn't like people hovering around him, but he liked it even less when he was alone.

He drew his legs up to his chest and hugged them tight, wondering why his thigh burned with pain when he did that. He looked down and found a bandage around his leg. He gave it an experimental poke.

'Ahh,' he winced, and decided not to poke it anymore.

Now he was in even more pain, and feeling miserable and scared. Why was he alone? Where was everybody? Especially that nice voice that was sort of familiar.

Wait. Familiar voice? Noctis tried to sort through his few scattered memories, and drew a blank. But there had definitely been some connection. Something he remembered, something from what felt like long ago. He tried harder to remember, willed his brain to think back. The voice was familiar. It was comforting. He remembered cold and pain, but then there was that voice and someone holding his hand. That had been nice, because he knew it was a friend. But he couldn't picture the friend in his mind. Why couldn't he remember what they looked like? All he could think of when he tried really hard was chocobos.

Noctis frowned, and noticed his leg was bandaged. Why was that bandaged? He poked it a little bit.

'Ahhh,' he winced, and decided not to poke it anymore.

He stared at the wall for a few moments, then he remembered a familiar voice. Who had that been? He couldn't remember. But he wanted to find them. He slowly pushed his way over to the edge of the bed and found his way obstructed by a plastic barrier of some kind. That confused him for a moment, and he ran his hands over it and tried to push it. It didn't move.

Oh well, he could go over it. That would be fine. Noctis lifted his left leg over and that worked perfectly. Then he wasn't quite sure which limb to move next. His right leg ached - oh wow, there's a bandage on it - so he decided to grab the rail with his hands and lever his body over the side. That would work nicely. He was halfway through doing that when his left foot caught a dangling tube. He panicked and drew his leg back, but it was stuck and then there was a sharp stabbing sensation in one of his elbows. With a cry of pain he slipped and fell over the side of the bed, slamming hard into the floor with things crashing down around him.

Everything hurt. Everything hurt lots and Noctis couldn't understand why. Why was he on the floor? Why was he alone? Was anyone coming back?

Suddenly his eyes were wet, and his chest was heaving in and out rapidly as sobs racked his body. He was scared. So scared. He wanted someone, _anyone_ , but especially that familiar voice that made him think of chocobos. He just wanted someone to hold him that didn't scare him, he wanted to remember who he was and who he loved.

Did anyone love him? Or had he always been alone? Was anyone coming? Why was he on the floor?

His leg hurt. And it was bandaged, but he didn't have the strength to poke it to see why.

-

As soon as Ignis entered the hospital room and laid eyes on the scene, the coffee cup fell from his grasp.

'Highness!' Ignis cried, slipping in the spilled coffee in his haste to get to the fallen prince.

Somehow - Etro knew how - Noctis was out of bed. The dark haired man was sprawled on the floor looking disoriented and in pain. The elastic band of the oxygen mask was hanging off one ear where it had slipped off his face. Ignis removed that first, tossing it to the side. The IV lines had been ripped out of Noctis's arms when he fell, and the thin skin at Noctis's elbows now had bloodied holes where the skin had been pulled away. Ignis felt vaguely sick to look at them, but his healer training kicked in and he knew that they weren't life threatening, although they were bleeding quite nicely. Several wires from the heart monitor had come loose, but the machine had fallen with Noctis and smashed on the floor.

Noctis looked up at him with eyes that flashed indigo briefly. He was scared and confused. It was a testament to just how much when he allowed Ignis to lift him back onto the bed without a noise of complaint. Firstly Ignis tended to the wounds at the crook of Noctis's elbows. He found sutures and closed the cuts up, then placed thick pads of gauze over them and bandaged them up. Now Noctis was bandaged completely from wrist to upper arm, and though it looked slightly ridiculous, Ignis couldn't think of a better alternative.

Next Ignis went about picking up the broken machine, and the oxygen mask. Noctis wasn't keen to have it back on, he squirmed and pushed it away when Ignis tried to slip it over his face, so Ignis left it off for the time being rather than agitate Noctis further.

He looked at the IV bags that were supposed to be delivering medicine to the prince and sighed. With his elbows so damaged there was no way they could be reinserted, but Noctis wasn't up to swallowing his medication yet. And he needed the nutrients being pumped into his body. Ignis knew the alternative wasn't going to go down well, and that Noctis would protest, but he fetched a healer anyway who agreed that a nasogastric tube was the best way to proceed. After a repeat CT to make sure the prince hadn't suffered any further injury.

As predicted, Noctis was not a happy bunny. Ignis smoothed down his hair and spoke gentle, soothing words, but whether it did any good or indeed made things worse, Ignis had no idea. Whatever the case Noctis squirmed and spluttered and coughed and moaned as the healer slipped the tube down his nose into his stomach, and new drugs were prescribed along with the artificial nutrition and hydration therapy mix.

Once the healer was gone Noctis lay on his bed looking ashen grey and whimpering softly as he stared up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes.

Ignis felt his own eyes dampening slightly as he sat down beside his prince. 'If I could take all of this pain away from you I would, highness. You have no idea. I'd rather go through it all myself than see you like this.'

Noctis sniffled, then choked a little on the tube.

Unable to help himself Ignis reached out to brush his hand against Noctis's cheek. The dark prince flinched slightly, but calmed soon after. It seemed that considering all he had been put through in the past few hours, a light touch to the cheek was nothing.

Ignis stayed by his side for a while longer, taking various liberties with stroking Noctis's hair, then his cheek again, and taking solace in the fact that Noctis no longer seemed to be terrified of him.

And then Noctis started whimpering again, and his thin body arched up from the bed.

'Highness? What's wrong?' Ignis asked. He hadn't been expecting an answer really, so he wasn't surprised when none was forthcoming. Noctis continued to squirm weakly, and cough every few minutes.

Then he turned his head on the pillow and looked sadly at Ignis with eyes filled with exhaustion. 'Hurts,' he said simply, in a hoarse voice that sounded as if it hadn't been used for years.

And that was the thing that broke Ignis. Unable to do anything more to help, tears rolled down Ignis's cheeks and he pushed himself to his feet. In one quick motion he had Noctis in his arms and was moving the small, warm body into his lap while he settled himself back against the pillows. Prompto had been right; the beds really were like bricks, but Ignis didn't care. He lay there, cradling Noctis to his chest and rocking him gently back and forth, offering what comfort he could. Because there was simply nothing more he could do. He couldn't take the pain away. He couldn't even heal Noctis. All he could do was wait and hope that Noctis would get better.

 


	10. Under Lock and Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories shouldn't fade. Memories should last forever. The memory of your parents. The memory of warm sunlight on your face The sweet taste of chocolate, and the sensation of sinking into a soft pillow. Memories of friends that you thought would last a lifetime, even if the friendships faded into the abyss. To be robbed of even your name is a very lonely feeling.
> 
> Noctis has only one memory, and that is of a strained but cheerful voice. He can't picture the face that the voice belongs to, but that voice has the power to calm his frazzled nerves. And in the swirling mess his brain has become he'll cling to the owner of that voice like a lifeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels. Just, many feels. Like it could have been the chapter title it's that prominent. Couple of scenes here that I've been aching to write since I first started this fic, so I'm happy I've finally got to this point!
> 
> Also badass Prom and Regis. Because why not?
> 
> As always thank you to everyone that reads this, it really means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter! ♥

'I got you a gift,' said the voice that he'd been waiting to hear all night.

He opened his eyes, he hadn't been sleeping anyway, and smiled as the blond man came into view. He couldn't remember what the man had looked like, but he knew that voice. Something about it made him feel warm and safe.

The blond man seemed rather happy about whatever he had in his hands. It was a large, thin package, covered in dark purple paper and messily taped up at the ends. As the package was pressed into his hands, he ran a finger over the tape. There were fingerprints on it.

'Heh, I know it's probably lame to wrap it, but I thought it might make it a bit more fun.'

He turned it over in his hands, and noticed writing in silver pen: to Noct, from Prom.

That meant he was Noct? It must be, since he was the one receiving the gift. And that made the blond man with the familiar voice "Prom". Noct glanced up shyly. 'Thank you.'

'You haven't opened it yet,' Prom gently reminded him.

Noct glanced down again. Opened it? Wasn't this it? True he had no idea what "it" was, but then he felt that way about a lot of things. There were lots of things in his room that he had no idea the function or indeed name of.

'Here, just slide your finger under like this,' Prom reached over and true to his instructions slipped his finger under the paper by the tape and pulled the paper apart.

Noct flinched a little at the noise of ripping paper. Then became distressed because his present was broken.

'It's okay, it's fine,' Prom assured him. 'It's just the paper, it gets thrown away.'

Noct wasn't so sure, but Prom was looking at him expectantly so he mirrored Prom's action and slipped his hand under the paper to pull more of it away. There was a tube going down his nose that caught on the gift when he tugged at the wrapping paper. A sharp pain shot through his nose and throat when the tube was tugged. Irritated Noct reached for it to pull it out, but a freckled hand took his and moved it away.

'Don't pull that, buddy. You need it to get better.'

Buddy? Wasn't his name Noct? Noct/Buddy was confused. And his throat was sore, now that he was aware of it. There were bandages on his wrists and whatever was under them was itchy too.

'No no, don't scratch those! They'll bleed!' Prom sounded panicked this time as he pulled Noct/Buddy's hand away from his wrist. 'Look, gift. Let's finish opening it, yeah?'

Yeah. That sounded good. Noct/Buddy had almost forgotten that he had the purple oblong in his lap. He picked it up again and began tugging at the torn paper. It fell onto the sheets and he was left holding a hardback book. Gently he turned it the right way around, and ran his fingers over the colourful cover. Then he looked up at Prom for guidance.

Prom looked a little nervous, and his pale cheeks had a rosy tinge to them. He looked cute.

'It's a…a colouring book.' The pink on Prom's cheeks darkened. 'For adults, not a silly kids one. It's meant to be relaxing and I figured you could probably use some calm. And something to do, you must be bored in here. I got you some pens, too.'

Noct/Buddy watched as Prom reached for the discarded wrapping paper, and a packet of felt tip pens that had been in there too. Prom handed them over, so Noct/Buddy took them. Then cried out in pain as the book fell in his lap and the corner caught his leg. He'd forgotten he'd been holding the book already. How could he have forgotten that? Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at the stupid book in his lap. How could he hold something and forget he was holding it? Why was he forgetting things? Why couldn't he remember anything? He couldn't even remember his own name. N something. Noel? Nicholas?

'Hey, don't cry,' the blond man with the familiar voice and the name he could no longer remember said. The blond looked as distressed as he felt. Maybe the blond man couldn't remember anything either?

There was a little click and the plastic rail that had been up on the side of his bed was suddenly gone. The blond man slipped up to sit on the bed next to him, and warm, comforting arms went around him. He felt a little scared at first, but then the familiar, soothing voice washed over him and he knew everything was alright.

'Shh, it's okay Noct. It's okay. You just dropped it is all. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have given you so much to hold.'

Noct. That was his name. He was Noct. He could live with that. Knowing his name calmed him a little bit more, and the effects of the voice and being held calmed him further. He let his head fall on the blond man's shoulder, and let himself be rocked gently while the man muttered nonsense things. Noct didn't care what was being said, all he cared about was hearing the voice that made him feel safe, and made him feel like everything was okay even though his whole world was foreign and scary.

Once he was settled down enough the blond man started to pull away. He panicked, and reached out to grab the man's thin hand. 'Please don't go.'

'I won't, I promise. I'm not going anywhere,' the blond man said softly, almost tenderly. Noct liked that tone, it made him feel warm inside.

The blond man shifted himself about a bit, and rearranged the pillows behind them so they were sitting up properly. Then he helped move Noct so that he was sitting in front of the blond man between his legs, leaning back against his chest. Noct liked that. Arms reached around him, and grabbed the book to sit in his lap. And when the voice spoke again, it was right in his ear.

'Like I said, it's meant to be relaxing. It's all the craze in Insomnia right now, you can buy all sorts of different colouring books, and special pens and stuff.'

Noct reached down to open the book to the first page. It was a fluffy chocobo, pecking at the floor with a big farmhouse in the background. The packet of pens was offered to him, and he chose green. Awkwardly he pulled the cap off the pen, and then took an awfully long time trying to work out how to hold it best. The blond man was patient with him, though, and helped him position it in his hand. It still felt wrong, though, but he couldn't explain why. When he started colouring it was with wide arcs that kept going outside the lines even though he was trying to be careful. That frustrated him, but arms squeezed him from behind.

'Hey, it's meant to be fun, yeah? It doesn't matter if you go over the lines. Or if it's not neat. Or if you've coloured the chocobo in green. I'm sure there's a green chocobo _somewhere_ in the world.'

'I can't remember what colour they are,' Noct said sadly, frowning at his memory again. He could see the image of chocobo in his mind, but it was black and white, just like the picture on the page in front of him.

'Yellow, usually. Though you can get some special breed black ones. They're really pretty, you have a few in the palace stables,' the blond man said.

'Oh,' Noct said, trying to colour again. It was hopeless. He was officially useless. But once he got over caring it really was quite relaxing, and he spent a good fifteen minutes just switching colours and scribbling over the page.

At some point the man behind him rested his chin on Noct's shoulder, and Noct tipped his head to rest against him. It was nice. He felt calm, and happy. Okay he was still scared and frustrated at the gaping holes in his memory, but he had someone that loved him and was protecting him. It was all perfect until the blond man asked the stupid question.

'Do you remember my name?'

Noct's hand jerked on the page, and the pen came loose from his grasp. He knew the name. He _knew_ it. And he had seen it earlier on the paper. He glanced over at the wrapping paper, but it was the wrong way round. Panic began to race through him, his breathing started to quicken, he felt dizzy and sick. The more he tried to remember the harder it became, and suddenly he forgot his own name too. Or what the thing in his hand was. Or why someone was behind him.

Then the someone started to pull away and that panicked him even more.

'No. Stay,' he begged.

A cheek nuzzled his own. 'I think, maybe I just need to go and get some drinks, okay? Just for five minutes.'

He could feel dampness on his cheek. The man behind him - the man with the nice, reassuring familiar voice - was crying. And then suddenly Noct was crying too.

'Please don't go. I might not remember your name, but I know that you're someone very special to me. Please don't leave me just because I can't remember your name. Please, I need you.'

For a second he had no idea what was going to happen. His whole body was tense, waiting for the man behind him to push him away. But that didn't happen. The arms went around him again and he was held tightly. So tightly it hurt, but it was a good hurt, because the man was snuggling him and holding him tight and he wasn't leaving.

'Shit, Noct of course I'll stay. I'm sorry. I just…I thought…I was scared. I'm sorry. Of course I'll stay with you.'

Noct, that was his name. He had a name. He'd forgotten that, but it seemed so obvious now. His name was Noct. And the blond man was Prom. Prom. Prom. He had to remember. He'd try hard to remember. Because he didn't want to make Prom cry anymore. He wanted him to want to stay.

'Thank you, Prom.'

-

The dungeon was cold and dimly lit; sconces lined the walls with flickering flames, just as they had done in the times of Regis's great-great grandfather. While the upper levels of the palace had undergone extensive modernisation over the years, the dungeons had been left almost exactly the same as when they had been built. With the exception of electronic doors being fitted, and enhanced security details; including rather useful features such as the ability to remove the air from a cell, or to introduce an electronic current through the metal floor. Useful additions, and Regis was sure that his great-great grandfather would have had them installed had they been available.

His heels clicked on the stone floor, but the sound was drowned out by the pairs of feet behind him, following him like ducklings as they passed by closed cells doors with menacing eyes glaring through letterbox shaped windows. Lucis had taken many prisoners from Niflheim when the attack had fallen to pieces, but the foot soldiers were of little concern to Regis. No, they would be left to their cells for a month or so more, then sent back to Niflheim in airships after being branded with the seal of Lucis as a constant reminder for them of what they had done.

These cells, packed full of ordinary soldiers, weren't even guarded. However toward the end of the corridor three of Regis's finest men stood to attention, with swords at their hips. There were three doors here, three rooms that Regis wanted to run electricity through and fry the occupants of. But he couldn't. Not yet. Not while there was even a sliver of hope that they might have some knowledge that would help his son.

His heart broke as he thought of the poor frail boy in the hospital bed that had looked at him with such fearful eyes. His son. His legacy. His only family now that his wife was gone. Regis was a tired man, and he had hoped that one day Noctis might take on the burden of the crystal on his own. But now that seemed unlikely. The chilling realisation that he might outlive his son weighed heavily on his mind.

'Your Majesty,' the three guards greeted him as he approached.

He nodded to them, then looked at the doors. These three had no windows. The occupants were given only a single, hard bed and a loo mere feet from where they had to sleep. That was all the luxury he would allow them.

From the leftmost door he could hear muffled bangs. Aurora was a livewire, angry at everything and never one to back down. Regis would have admired that in her if she didn't focus her energy against Lucis. Though he felt sorrow for the losses she had suffered in her life, really she should have directed her anger _at_ Niflheim, rather than joining them.

Regis ignored her door, and that gave him a choice of two. Though he wanted to enter Idola's cell and strangle the man for trying to take his son from him, Prompto had insisted that Asta would be the more likely prisoner to cooperate. And the most important thing right now was getting Noctis help. Revenge could - and would - come after. Idola would never cross Lucis' borders, unless it was in a body bag.

'Unlock this door, please,' Regis said, nodding his head to the right hand door.

The guards hurried to do so for him.

'If he tries to attack-'

'Then I will snap his neck,' Regis said calmly.

'Very good, Your Majesty.'

Regis nodded, then stepped into the small cell. He could feel the men behind him pressing in close, and wasn't surprised to see a shock of blond hair beside him. Prompto looked ready to shoot something, but fortunately the young man had left his gun behind. Regis didn't trust him not to use it.

Asta was lying on his bed, lounging as if it were the most comfortable thing in the world. He'd been dressed in simple orange trousers and a t-shirt, and was barefoot. His long limbs reached over the end of the bed, but he had pillowed his head with his arms and he faced the group with a lazy, lopsided grin.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

Regis dug into the jacket pocket of his neat pinstripe suit, and produced a mobile phone. 'Prompto seems to think that you downloaded information on the slave crown. I've had my technicians pull every scrap of data from your phone, but there's nothing there. If you value your life, then you'll start talking.'

The man snorted, and turned his amber gaze up to the ceiling. 'I deleted it. I'm not stupid, you know. I knew that if I was captured you'd take it away and just get it yourself. No, the information is kept here,' he tapped a long finger to his head.

Regis dropped the phone to the floor where it landed with a crack, then he stepped forward and crushed the plastic and glass under his foot. 'Start speaking. If I don't like what you're saying, I will rip your spine out through your throat.'

'Now I see where the kitten gets it from.'

Regis blinked. 'What?'

'His snarky attitude. He was just like you when we first got him, all angry and threatening. I liked that. It was boring when the boss put that crown on him. He stopped being fun.'

'Fun?' Regis asked, closing the gap between himself and the bed. 'You think brainwashing my son into attacking a nation is _fun?_ You think starving him and beating him is fun? You think ripping magic through his body-'

'Majesty,' Cor said, pressing a large hand to his shoulder.

Regis took a deep, steadying breath. 'How do we fix the damage?'

'Damage?' Asta asked.

Regis's eyes briefly flashed red. 'The brain damage that your goddamn crown left him with.'

'Eh, I did warn the boss-man that it wasn't supposed to be for long term use. But he didn't listen to me. Nobody ever listens to me.'

Reaching down, Regis grabbed a fistful of orange shirt and hauled Asta up into a sitting position. He was barely an inch from Asta's smirking face. 'I'm listening now.'

'Well good for you. Too bad it's too late for your son.'

His hand let go of the material, and he stepped back a little, watching as Asta rearranged his shirt. As soon as the red head was finished Regis balled his hand into a fist and swung before Cor could stop him. The satisfying crack of a broken nose made up for the sting in is knuckles.

'Bloody hell, what was that for?' Asta demanded, his hands flying up to stem the sticky flow of blood from his nose.

'If you really have any information on that crown, then you're going to tell me right now or I'll start breaking other bones.'

'Oww. Oww. Alright, fine. But there's not much to tell. The crown works on waves, right? It probably fried his brain. You can't fix that shit.'

Regis glanced over his shoulder to Ignis.

'That much is true,' Ignis said. 'If the crown was emitting radiation, then the damage will not be easily repaired.'

'Give me some better news, or I start punching again,' Regis said to Asta.

Asta spread his hands out in a defensive gesture. 'What more can I tell you, oh great one? The kitten's brain is fried, and his personality is probably locked away. The research suggests that when subjected to the slave crown the mind creates cells within the brain, much like these prison cells. To keep the personality safe it hides it away, so that it can't be corrupted by the commands the vessel is given.'

'So Noct might still be in there?' Prompto asked, pushing his way forward.

Regis let him, mulling this over in his own mind.

Asta shrugged. 'Maybe, maybe not. He was under the crown's influence for a long time. If the kitten still exists inside his mind, he might be too far gone to pull back. Can I have an ice pack or something? Some painkillers, perhaps? Even a tissue would be nice, I'm simply ruining these lovely clothes you gifted me with. How utterly rude of me.'

Prompto didn't think, he just acted. The memory of Noctis lying perfectly still and broken in the Niflheim cell flashed before his eyes and even though Asta had helped before it didn't stop him taking out his anger and fear on the red haired man. He lashed out and slammed the heel of his hand into Asta's already broken nose, eliciting a delicious grunt of pain. Before Asta could move to defend himself Prompto had curled his hand into a fist and few forward, putting all of his weight into a punch that connected painfully with Asta's jaw. Something cracked, whether it was jaw or knuckles he wasn't sure, but he didn't care. All he wanted was to cause pain, to make _someone_ pay for what had been done to Noctis. He drew his hand back again and was aiming for a black eye when a hand grabbed his bicep and pulled him roughly back into a pair of warm arms.

'S'nuff, tough guy,' Gladiolus's rough voice soothed in his ear.

It was then that Prompto realised he was panting, out of breath from anger and exertion. And there were tears in his eyes, and his chest hurt oh so damn much. His stomach hurt too, clenching painfully as he realised there was still nothing he could do. Beating Asta up wasn't going to bring Noctis to the surface. He slumped a little but Gladiolus had been anticipating it and supported him, then turned him around and held him close, rocking him gently back and forth.

'You've been practicing your right hook. I'm sure you were never that good with me,' Gladiolus chuckled.

'Desperation does funny things,' Prompto said hollowly. There was a hand in his hair; Ignis was comforting him too. Damn, he must look out of control.

'Wow, see if I help any of you again,' Asta said but his voice sounded strange, as if he had a stuffed up nose from a cold. 'Your prince is locked away. Even if you read through all the data I downloaded it won't say how to bring him back. Trust me, I read it. It talks about the theory, talks about how the crown works. But the longest trial was twelve hours. The kitten is operating outside the research limits.'

Regis glanced over at his son's friends, then back at the bloodied face of his enemy. 'Cor, take him to the infirmary.'

'Finally, a man with sense,' Asta said.

'You will receive basic medical care. No painkillers. Then you will be sent to our research department where you will tell them _every single damn thing_ that you remember. We'll use whatever you remember to help my son. When, and only when, we get Noctis back, then I'll decide whether or not you live.'

Asta smirked as best he could with a cracked jaw and broken nose. 'No pressure, eh?'

The wet, bloody sound of Regis's fist connecting with Asta's nose, and the resounding howl of agony, echoed through the corridors of the dungeons.

-

'Where are we going?' Prompto asked tiredly. 'Seriously, guys, I just wanna…'

'Wanna what?' Gladiolus asked softly, his large hand a comforting weight on Prompto's shoulder, guiding the smaller man up to the second floor of the west wing of the palace. Four doors lined the corridor; one for each of their bedrooms.

'I don't even know anymore,' Prompto admitted softly. His hand slipped into his pocket, his thumb brushed over the smooth plastic of the little bottle of pills Ignis had given him when he'd first returned from Niflheim. When Noctis had been a skeletal bloodied mess that hadn't looked capable of making it through the night. His hand trembled around the pill box. His other hand was firmly in Ignis's; the older man's hand was warm around his own and every so often Ignis would squeeze his hand, as if reassuring him that he wasn't alone.

They turned into his bedroom and for once Ignis didn't mention the dirty clothes littering the floor, or the video games in messy stacks or the fact his bed wasn't made. Instead he was led over to the large, four poster bed, and gently pushed to sit on the soft mattress. Ignis sat next to him, and reached out to tuck a lock of blond hair behind his ear.

'You're still taking the medication?' Ignis asked.

Prompto swallowed hard and removed the packet from his pocket. There weren't many pills left, and they rattled nosily in their container. 'They don't work as well as they did the first day.'

'You were exhausted the first day, it wouldn't have taken much to get you to sleep.' Ignis studied him carefully, and gently ran the pad of his thumb across the dark shadow under one of his eyes.

Hands massaged his shoulders as Gladiolus pressed close to his back.

Ignis took the pills from his hand, and Prompto couldn't help the little gasp of shock. He tried to take them back, but Ignis set them on the duvet out of his reach and before he could protest another bottle was taken from Ignis's pocket. 'These are a stronger dose. I hadn't wanted to start you off on these as they can be addictive, but they should help calm you down, Prom. You need to relax. You need to sleep.'

Prompto licked his dry lips and nodded, his eyes fixed on the pills. 'I do. I know I do. I just…my stomach hurts. It hurts so much, like someone's stabbed me with a knife and is twisting it.'

The massage on his shoulder deepened, and he almost moaned in pleasure.

Ignis handed over the pills. 'Just for now. But I expect to see you getting some sleep, not sneaking into His Highness's hospital room at all hours. How do you think he'd feel if he knew you were neglecting your own health for him?'

'But he's all alone…' Prompto whispered.

'He's asleep ninety-nine percent of the time,' Gladiolus pointed out. 'And 'sides, the little guy needs his rest. If you're there then he'll try and stay awake. Do both of you a favour and get some sleep yourself, yeah?'

Prompto sighed, but couldn't deny he was exhausted. His stomach hurt. His head hurt. His heart hurt. He popped a pill dry then padded through to his bathroom to drink water straight from the tap. When he lifted his head up he noticed just how pale and drawn he looked. Niflheim had done a number on him too, it seemed. With a heavy sigh he returned to his room and slipped under the covers. It wasn't long before he found himself sandwiched by his friends, in a warm tangle of limbs and tender kisses to his cheek that chased away the demons.

 

-

'Beautiful,' Gladiolus said with a wide grin, as Noctis glanced up at him expectantly.

Noctis gave a soft, irritated sigh, then drew a huge wobbly cross through the picture he had been colouring in and turned the page for a fresh design. It was a tonberry. He knew it was a tonberry, but he couldn't remember what colour tonberries were. He selected a purple felt tip, simply because he hadn't used purple in a while.

'So why is he colouring?' Gladiolus asked.

'Thought it would be fun for him,' Prompto said from across the hospital room. He was busy working on something at a little desk that had been pushed up against the wall. Every so often he would borrow Noctis's felt tips, though sometimes Noctis would restrict which colours he could have, if he was intending to use them. The new Noctis wasn't good at sharing. And Prompto wasn't good at explaining, because every time someone asked what he was working on (and why he was taking pictures of everyone) he would grin and tell them it was a secret.

Ignis pushed his glasses further up his nose and observed Noctis for a moment. 'Well it certainly seems as if His Highness could use the coordination practice.'

'And we really need to get him a bestiary; someone needs to tell the kid that moogles aren't yellow,' Gladiolus said.

'He's trying. That's a good sign, isn't it?' Luna asked. She was sat with the boys after having been kicked out of the kitchen for baking too much. With nothing else to do she had taken up knitting and was currently five feet into a rather holey and uneven scarf. She certainly wasn't going to go back to Tenebrae; with how her parents had rushed to Niflheim's aid she was going to let her family worry a little longer before informing them that she had survived the battle.

'It's a good sign,' Ignis agreed.

'These banana muffins are also a good thing,' Gladiolus said, holding up the empty wrapped of one he had demolished. 'When are you starting up baking again? Now Prom's getting his appetite back we're getting through your stock.'

Luna smiled. 'I'll go shopping to resupply the kitchens. I feel bad for using up all the ingredients. Can Prince Noctis eat anything yet?'

Ignis shook his head, and nudged the tube that led up to Noctis's nose and went down to his stomach. 'He can't handle solid foods yet. The healers want to try taking him off the formula within the next few days and seeing how he does with simple, plain pureed foods.'

'Delicious,' Gladiolus said with a disgusted look on his face.

'Perhaps not, but he needs to go slowly or he'll end up making himself sick,' Ignis said, frowning as Noctis scowled and scribbled a cross through his tonberry and turned the page to try again with a new creature.

'He's really not good at that, is he?' Luna said sadly. 'The crown really did a number on him.'

'It's changed him,' Ignis said. 'Asta said that the Noctis we knew is locked away as it were, so this is almost an entirely new version of the prince.' Ignis paused, as if a thought had just struck him.

'What're you thinking, Iggy?' Gladiolus asked, his mouth full of a new banana muffin.

Ignis said nothing but took the orange felt tip pen from Noctis. The prince looked up at him with a sharp frown, which morphed to confusion when the pen was handed immediately back to him, except placed in his left hand. This time Noctis took to it much more naturally, and when he set the nib to the paper there was less wobble and more control. Noctis concentrated hard on the page as he coloured in the fish, barely ever deviating outside the line.

Gladiolus swallowed his mouthful of muffin. 'He's a leftie? What the hell, he's always been right handed.'

'Yes, _our_ Noctis was right handed. But this is a different Noctis. With different characteristics. We're imposing our preconceptions of the Noctis we know, rather than letting him be the person he is.'

Noctis glanced up with a proud smile; the fish was entirely the wrong colour, but it was neatly coloured in.

His friends smiled back at him, though Ignis felt a pang of pain tear into his chest. This wasn't their Noctis. And this was a poignant reminder of that. But was their Noctis still in there, and could he be brought back?

-

He woke up in a panic. There had been cold and pain, but it felt like a dream, fading away as he tried to cling on to the memories. Now he was awake and faced with fresh fears, other than the nightmares that haunted his sleep. He was alone, he was hurting, and he didn't even know who he was. The feeling of waking up and not knowing a single thing was terrifying, and he began to panic more as he sat up and looked around the strange, alien white room for something that might trigger a memory.

There was something in his hand. Something square; a series of cards with holes punched in the side and a little bit of ribbon holding the sheets together. The cover read: The Noctis Book.

Confused, he opened it up slowly. The pages were clearly handmade; the writing was handwritten and things had been glued on and weren't quite straight. Somehow it calmed him, though.

The first page was pale blue and had black writing on it with a little crown drawn in the corner in gold gel pen. He ran his finger over that then looked at the writing: **My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum, and I have memory problems. This doesn't mean that I'm stupid or useless, it just means that sometimes I need a little extra help to do something or find my way around.**

Something flipped in his mind. That was his name: Noctis was his name. He couldn't remember what he looked like, but he had a name. That made him feel a little better, and a little happier to know why he hadn't remembered it in the first place. He wasn't useless; he was just forgetful.

Slowly he turned the page, and there was a picture of an elder man on the back of the page he had just read. On the right hand page was more writing: **I am the prince of Lucis, and my father is king Regis Lucis Caelum CXIII. I live in the palace (see back of book for map) with him and my friends (turn the page!)**.

A small smile flickered over his lips as he took in the picture of the man. That was his father. He had family. He wasn't alone. It was strange to see a picture of someone related to him by blood, but be unable to drag up any memories of him. That hurt a little, but it was nice to know his father was still there. He could make new memories.

As instructed by the book, he turned over and was presented with two new photographs. Neither person looked familiar. The left hand photo was of a blond man, and there was text underneath his happy grinning face: **Prompto Argentum is my best friend in the world, and he's awesome. Find him if I need someone to talk to, or I'm feeling sad or lonely. He has the most amazing collection of video games in the world.**

Well he was definitely feeling lonely, but he wasn't ready to get up just yet and find this Prompto person. He was kind of having fun reading this little book. The blond man looked so happy and carefree, and he had funny freckles sprinkled over his face that made him look cute. Noctis smiled down at the smiling face, and touched his fingertips to the photograph. He wanted to meet Prompto.

The next page was of a sterner looking man with high cheekbones and glasses. Again, Noctis couldn't remember anything about him but there was helpful text to remind him: **Ignis Stupeo Scientia is also my friend and my advisor, I should find him if I need help understanding something or I'm not feeling well. He knows literally everything, he can make anything right.**

Noctis nodded to himself, and touched the picture of his advisor. He wasn't sure what an advisor was supposed to do, but it seemed this Ignis person was very helpful to him. He liked his glasses; they made the man look very elegant.

He turned the page again and almost jumped at the next face. The man had a huge scar down his face, and he looked strong and scary, but he was smiling warmly. Noctis stared for a long time, trying to get a feel for the person. Although he couldn't remember him, he knew that he was a nice guy. Like he was a protector or something. He smiled to himself when he realised he was correct, by reading the scrawl underneath the photo: **Gladiolus is my friend and bodyguard, find him if I'm feeling scared or worried about something. He's also pretty good at hugs, and can carry me anywhere if I'm tired or feeling lazy.**

He laughed a little and turned to the next page. There was glitter all over it and Noctis played with it a little, getting flecks all over his hands. The text was in silver gel pen, as the paper was dark purple: **I'm right (this word had been crossed out) left handed. My favourite tv programme is Agents of Shield. I don't like horror movies. I like video games and chocobo riding. I don't like spicy food. I take my coffee black with one sugar.**

And that was the end of it. There was a map of the castle at the back, but Noctis wasn't really interested since he didn't feel like getting up yet. He set the book down in his lap and rested back against his pillows. He looked up at the unfamiliar white ceiling, but he wasn't scared anymore. He knew some important things about himself. He had a father. He had friends. He was loved. And that was all that mattered.

Noctis fell into a dreamless, content sleep.


	11. Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addiction comes in many forms. To drugs. To people.
> 
> Scratch the surface and things aren't as they seem. It's hard to tread water when your legs feel like lead, but somehow you have to keep on kicking or you'll be swallowed up by the water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long! I hope if anyone is still reading, that you enjoy this chapter! ♥

Two pills. Glass of water. Put the bottle away in the drawer. Don't think about them until lunch time. Then the next dose is due.

Prompto's hand trembled as he closed the drawer. His blue eyes lingered for a moment; his hands itched to open it up again just to make sure the pills were there. Two weren't enough. Even at the stronger dose his hands still trembled. They had started off helping, but even with Noctis becoming more alert and aware of things Prompto's panic attacks were getting worse as his body got used to the drugs that were supposed to calm him. He needed a stronger dose. Or he needed to take another one. Three wasn't much, right? It was only one more, after all. And they were tiny pills.

His tongue ran over his lower lip, and he shook his head. No. Ignis had said two. Ignis would have said three if it was safe. But damn his hands were still shaking. And he couldn't bring his feet to move. He'd promised Noctis he would be there, but he just…couldn't. Couldn't face seeing those blank eyes. Or hearing that lost, terrified voice. Niflheim had stripped Noctis of everything he was, and it hurt to see his friend like that. He couldn't help but blame himself for not getting Noctis help sooner. Every night he lay awake replaying those days in Niflheim over in his mind. He could have done something else to help. He should have taken the slave crown off sooner, or killed Idola in his sleep, or bribed a guard to smuggle Noctis out of the dungeon.

Somehow the pills were in his hand again. When had that happened? He stared at them long and hard, unscrewed the cap, then screwed it on again tightly. The pills went back in the drawer and he forced his feet to march him out of his bedroom and down to the medical wing.

When he arrived Ignis was reading to Noctis. Prompto noticed that in the hand that wasn't holding the book, Ignis was holding Noctis's hand. And Noctis was allowing it. Though the prince didn't look as at ease as he did with Prompto, it was a sure sign that he was getting used to the people he was seeing more often.

'Hey, progress,' Prompto said, nodding to their joined hands.

Ignis managed a small smile. 'Yes, he didn't like it at first, but he's started to relax I believe. It's still you he reacts best to. Look.'

Noctis had noticed Prompto enter and had sat up a little more. His hand had slipped out of Ignis's and his other was reaching out toward Prompto. That was new; usually Prompto was the one to initiate contact when they first met each time, but it seemed Noctis was recognising him on sight now, not just through voice.

'How's it going, Noct?'

Noctis smiled and watched as Prompto took his hand, then the dark haired man sank back against his pillows and closed his eyes.

'Oh, so now I'm here you're going to fall asleep?' Prompto said.

'Tired,' Noctis whispered, but blinked his eyes open.

'I was kidding, buddy. You need rest. Go ahead, I'll be here when you wake up.'

Noctis let his eyes slip closed again.

Ignis chuckled and placed a slip of paper between the pages he had been reading, and closed his book. 'Perhaps with you here he'll sleep well. He was having nightmares again last night.'

They had started sitting with him in shifts, trying to get him used to their presence again. Regis insisted on sitting with his son for several hours a day, even though he himself was far from well and was working too many hours to be healthy. Lunafreya would also sit with him, and read to him or knit while he coloured.

'I wonder what he dreams of. If he doesn't have any memories, I wonder what goes on in his head,' Prompto said, idly running his thumb over the back of Noctis's knuckles.

'Fear of the unknown can be a powerful fear in itself,' Ignis said. 'Imagine not even knowing who you are. You have to rely on strangers to help you and to understand what you need. And he's injured and sick, too, so he's in pain and doesn't know how to communicate it to us. Or he doesn't trust us enough to tell us.'

'He trusts us. I like to think so, anyway,' Prompto said

'Perhaps,' Ignis sighed and glanced at his watch.

'Are you going to get some sleep? You've been with him all night.'

'I'd like to check in with the labs, first. Asta has been working with the technicians for a few days now.'

'How are they doing? Any news?'

'Not really. It seems the more we learn about the slave crown, the worse his chances appear to be. I want to sit with Asta myself and question him. I'm hoping he knows more than he's letting on.'

'I can come with you? I'll make him talk.' Prompto's voice was harsher than even he imagined it could be.

A frown creased Ignis's brow. 'Prom, how are you doing?'

'Me? What…why wouldn't I be alright?'

Ignis just stared at him, the way he stared when he was looking right into your soul. Prompto shifted uncomfortably.

'I just haven't been sleeping well either, I guess.'

'Perhaps you should be the one taking a nap?'

'Nah, I'm up now. And I want to be with him.' He did, even though it was like a stab to the gut every time he was near Noctis.

'Do you think the medication is still helping?' Ignis asked.

'A bit? I don't know. I keep feeling all panicky again. Maybe I could try a stronger dose or something?'

Ignis's frown returned. 'You're already on a very strong dose, Prom. Perhaps you need some time to yourself? His Highness is stable, you could rest and relax for a few days. You've been through a lot-'

'And he hasn't?' Prompto snapped. 'Iggy, they _tortured_ him. And they took him away. This isn't Noctis anymore, this is…this is just a puppet. They killed him but left his body breathing and talking. It's like some horrible joke. Sometimes I think it might have been kinder if they _had_ killed him.'

Ignis swallowed hard, then glanced at Noctis, glad to find his eyes still closed. 'Prom, you don't mean that. There's still a chance we can get him back.'

'What chance?' Prompto asked, his throat and eyes burning. 'That damn crown fried his brain. And I didn't stop it.'

Ignis was around the other side of the bed in a heartbeat, and gently tugged Prompto away from Noctis and into a warm embrace. He let Prompto bury his face against his shoulder and gently rubbed his back until the blond stopped shaking. Only then did he tip his head and let his cheek rest atop the golden crown of hair, still holding his friend close.

'We could…you could have a higher dose of the medication. But this is the last step up, Prom. These pills are addictive, and dangerous at high doses. We'll try you for a few days, then I want you to start taking fewer of them. He's starting to get better, and we're working on healing his mind, too. You don't have to keep doing this to yourself, Prom.'

Something caught his hand, and Prompto turned his head to find that Noctis was awake and had shuffled to the edge of the bed to take his hand again. The thin, pale man squeezed his hand.

'Don't be sad. Please, Prom.'

That Noctis had remembered his name even managed to get a half smile from Prompto, and he squeezed the hand in his back gently, not wanting to break the bones. Noctis's hand was far too delicate still.

'I'm okay,' Prompto insisted.

-

The rain had started sometime in the early hours of the morning. Regis knew, because he'd been awake since four o'clock going through papers and preparing for the important meetings he would be attending that day. Slowly he dragged his feet - most unbecoming of a king - as he made his way to the medical wing of the palace. Ignis was there, sitting in a chair beside the hospital bed reading by lamplight. The golden glow cast shadows on the younger man's face in the darkness of the room.

'Your Majesty,' Ignis greeted as he entered, placing a bookmark between the pages and setting his book aside. 'You should be resting, it's early.'

'It is, but there are things I must attend to. And things that I _want_ to attend to,' Regis's tired blue eyes turned on Noctis, who was frowning in his sleep, face turned away as if fighting some imaginary demon.

Ignis's hand reached out to tuck locks of dark, silky hair behind the prince's ear. 'He's been restless all night. This is the calmest he's been in hours.'

Regis took a seat on the opposite side of the bed, and traced his fingers down Noctis's cheek. His son had that damn tube down his throat still, and his fingertips brushed the solid plastic of it briefly. Though he was supposed to be receiving nutritional support, Noctis was clearly still emaciated. His cheeks were hollow, and his eyes sunken. His skin was ashen and though the fevers that had plagued him were almost gone now, he still didn't look well. As if he were slipping away from them despite their efforts.

'Is he actually getting better?' Regis finally asked.

'His infections are clearing, and his wounds are healing,' Ignis said. 'The swelling on his brain is going down. The healers are worried about the malnutrition. They think he might soon be ready to start trying to eat pureed foods and drink liquids again.'

Regis nodded slowly, only half taking it in. It was hard to see that Noctis was improving when he still looked like death warmed up. 'He didn't deserve this.'

'Nobody deserves this,' Ignis said bitterly.

'If he hadn't been born a Caelum he'd never have endured this.'

'Your Majesty, if I may speak freely?'

Regis's gaze lifted from the sleeping boy, to the bespectacled man before him. 'Go on.'

'Prompto blames himself. You blame yourself. Gladiolus and I both blame ourselves too. I think that perhaps we should stop blaming ourselves for things out of our control, and start looking ahead to the things that we can do for him now. Surely our actions in helping him heal are more important than dwelling on a past that cannot be changed?'

For a long moment Regis held his gaze, then he smiled. For the first time in weeks he actually smiled. 'You are indeed wise beyond your years, Ignis. I only wish that you were my advisor, perhaps I would not have made so many mistakes in my youth if you had guided me. Please, always be there for Noctis. No matter what the outcome of all this.'

'I would never leave his side. Ever,' Ignis promised.

'I know. But for a few minutes I would like you to break that promise. Go and get yourself a large cup of ebony, I would like to talk to him alone for a few minutes.'

Slightly confused, as it wasn't Regis's turn for sitting with Noctis, Ignis just nodded, and with a final bow of his head left the room as requested in search of coffee.

Regis waited for the door to close behind the tall man, before he scraped the chair closer to the bed. Again he observed his son; watching as his thin chest rose and fell with each soft breath. Regis reached out a hand to rest over that chest, feeling bandages where the ribs beneath them were wrapped tightly to support the broken ones. Even through the layers of bandage he could feel Noctis's ribs, and it scared him how close to death Noctis had been when he'd finally come home.

'Noctis?' he asked softly.

His son didn't stir, though his head turned on the pillow to face him.

Regis lifted his hand to shake Noctis's narrow shoulder, feeling the deep hollow of the collarbone beneath his fingertips. 'Noct?'

Blue eyes flew open. In the dim light they glowed brightly, and for a moment Regis worried that Noctis might draw magic from the crystal and accidently kill him. But no red bled into the irises, and Noctis simply stared at him in silence, though his body was tense.

'Noctis? Do you recognise me?'

Noctis watched him warily, as a deer might a hunter. Then something changed in his face, and he reached for a little stack of paper held together by treasury tags. He flipped through the pages and smiled uncertainly as he held up a picture of Regis.

Regis let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He'd been recognised. Noctis knew who he was. 'Yes. Yes, I'm your father.'

Noctis looked at the picture, then up at him. 'You look older.'

A barking laugh escaped Regis's lips at the bluntness of the statement. 'I _feel_ older. At least a decade seems to have passed since you were taken from me.'

Noctis didn't seem to understand that, and looked back at his book in confusion. He flipped a couple of pages as if looking for some answer.

'I wanted to speak with you, Noct.'

Noctis looked up again. 'Okay.'

Deep breath. Deep, calming breath. 'About the crystal. Do you remember the crystal?'

Another frown from his son, and then Noctis turned back to his book. 'I don't think it's in here. I don't remember crystals. I'm sorry.'

'It's alright. I can explain. Crystals are connected to the planet in ways that we don't yet understand, but they grant us amazing powers. For example the power to create fire from the air, or to heal the wounds of the dying. Or even to summon great beasts to aid us in battle. Long ago, each major kingdom had its own crystal that allowed its king or queen to draw this magic. But over time the crystals began to lose their power, until only one was left. Ours, Noctis. Ours was the only one that remained active.'

'Okay,' Noctis said slowly, as if he was trying hard to absorb the information.

'As you can probably imagine, the other kingdoms grew jealous when their crystals stopped working, and they began to covet ours. Wars were fought, and finally peace treaties were signed. Except for Niflheim. Niflheim is far North, and its lands are cold and barren. All they know is war and hate, and at the detriment of her people Niflheim continued to fight.'

'Niflheim…is Idola's country?' Noctis asked, joining the little isolated scraps of information that floated in his head.

'Yes. They stole the crystal, and you so that they would have a direct link to it. And I'm…Noctis, you have no idea how sorry I am for that. If I could have swapped places with you I would have in a heartbeat.'

'It's okay,' Noctis said carefully.

'It's really not,' Regis said hollowly. 'And there's something I never told you. Even before all of this, you never knew. Usually the crystals had a single bound reigning king or queen. The crystal drains the life force from that person, which feeds the energy within it.'

Noctis blinked, but said nothing.

'And I…years ago, when you were very small…I linked you to the crystal. Usually an heir takes the crystal only when their parent has passed on, but I found a way to link us both at the same time. To share the burden of the crystal. I believe that's why ours remained active while the others died out, as they starved of energy. Ours had two sources to feed from. I could have killed you, linking you so young. But I was arrogant and believed you were strong enough and I even tricked myself into believing it would help make you stronger. But it almost killed you. Overnight you changed from being happy and energetic to sickly and bed bound. You ran fevers every other week, and you never grew properly. And you were always so tired, falling asleep in class, or during training. I took away your childhood to save our crystal.'

Tears stung Regis's eyes, and he took a shuddering breath, unable to look his son in the eye.

'I'm so sorry Noctis. For everything. I'm…I'm sorry.'

Something cold touched his hand, and when he looked up he saw Noctis's frail hand covering his own weathered on.

'You did what you thought was right. We're royalty. We have to think of our kingdom.'

Regis swallowed hard, and the tears in his eyes trailed down his cheeks. 'Noctis, you shouldn't…that's not…'

'I'm the prince. The book says so,' Noctis pointed to the Noctis Book. 'I think, sometimes we have to make sacrifices. You make sacrifices. And I want to help you with the crystal.'

'Noct…'

'Are we getting the crystal back?'

'It's already back, in the courtyard under heavy security.'

'Can I see it?'

'Not now, you need rest.'

'Am I still linked to it?'

'I'm not sure. I don't think now is the time to try; your body is still very frail, you shouldn't be using energy on spells.'

Noctis nodded, then squeezed his father's hand. 'I'd like to see it later.'

It was too much for Regis. The boy who barely knew anything about himself without referring to a book was too accepting, too forgiving. He didn't deserve such a son, not after the sacrifices he had forced Noctis to make. Regis moved from the chair to the bed, and gathered Noctis up in his arms, cocooning him protectively.

'If you are still linked, I'll remove it.'

'But then it will take all of _your_ energy,' Noctis pointed out.

Regis shook his head, and drew Noctis tighter to his chest. 'It doesn't matter. I will gladly bear that burden. I don't care of the consequences, I want you to heal and enjoy the years you have without being dragged down by that Etro damned crystal. I owe you so much…I can never repay it all.'

Noctis shuffled a little so that he was more comfortable, and rested against his father. 'I don't mind. We're family. It's what family does.'

Tears fell from Regis's cheeks into Noctis's hair, and he clutched his precious son even closer. His cheek nuzzled Noctis's hair and he drank up the warmth and love of his son. He had his son back. He had his reason for living. And nothing, not Idola, not the crystal, not Etro herself, was going to stop him from doing the right thing this time. He would protect Noctis the way he always should have done, even if the crystal ran out of energy and the life flickered out of it like the others. Nothing was worth endangering his son.

-

'You're not as fun as the kitten was,' Asta pointed out moodily. He was twirling a pencil between his fingers and staring out of the window as drizzle pattered against the window pane.

'I'm not trying to be fun, I'm trying to get answers,' Ignis said, sitting across the desk from Asta and tapping the nib of his pen to the blank page in his notebook. 'So I'll ask again; was the effect of the slave crown instant? Did His Highness manage to maintain cognizance for any period before the effects took hold?'

'I've already told your people all of this,' Asta complained. The pencil slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. 'I used to be able to keep that up for half an hour. I'm out of practice.'

'I really couldn't care less about your pencil spinning skills. Please answer the question, I would like to hear your answers myself. Did His Highness-'

'Why do you always call him "Highness"? It's kinda weird,' Asta said. 'Aren't you like friends or anything?'

Ignis drew in a breath, counted to ten in his mind, then spoke with as much restraint as he could manage. 'It is the proper title for the Prince of Lucis. Could you please answer-'

'Just because it's his proper title doesn't mean you have to call him it. That big scary dude with the scar and the cool tatts calls him Noct. Small Idola calls him Noct, too. You're the only one with the stick up your ass. So do you not like him or something?'

'Of course I like him,' Ignis answer instinctively, before he could realise he was being drawn off at a tangent. 'I consider him my closest friend.'

'Then why are you bumming around here with me instead of being with him? I'm guessing blondie spends every waking moment with him.'

'Because I'm trying to _help_ him,' Ignis said. 'And part of helping him means finding out exactly what happened to him. Do you not think that I would prefer to be with him right now?'

'Probably not, if he can't remember your name. That's gotta hurt, right?'

Ignis stopped himself just in time before he said something rather undignified, that Gladiolus and Prompto would have been proud of. His eyes itched with heat, and his lips pressed together tightly as the wave of emption ran over him. Only once he was calm and composed did he allow himself to speak. 'Of course it hurts. That's why I want to find out what happened, so that I can try and bring him back.'

Asta tipped his chair back so that it was leaning on two legs. For a long time the red haired man was quiet, then just as Ignis was about to ask his question for the umpteenth time, Asta's melodic voice broke the silence.

'The crown went on, the kitten switched off. It was like a light being thrown. He was there and then he wasn't,' Asta's voice was a low rumble, like thunder in the distance. He stared out of the window at the dreary grey sky. 'Idola said sit, the kitten sat. Idola said kill your father's soldiers, the kitten blasted them with fire. Idola said destroy Lestallum…'

'So he really did that?' Ignis whispered. He'd known it really; nobody could cause that kind of destruction without the aid of magic channelled through a crystal. Still, part of him had hoped. Because if Noctis ever remembered what he had done the guilt might eat the boy up alive. Added to the fact the survivors of Lestallum would never forgive him, slave crown or not. They would need someone to take the blame for their dead.

'He did everything Idola asked. And if Idola didn't ask anything, then he did nothing. Your boy spent most of his time lying on a shitty mattress in a shitty cell. Or standing there while Aurora and Dante ripped magic through him. I have to confess I did my own fair share of that. There's something so _addictive_ about feeling that magic running through your veins.'

Ignis exhaled softly, ignoring the final remark. As true as it was, he wondered if he would ever feel the rush of a spell in his body again. Right now the threads of magic that he could usually tap into were frayed and intangible. Noctis was confused and scared and holding his magic close, if he was capable of wielding it himself even.

'So are we done here?' Asta asked.

'Did he ever speak? Or move or-'

'Not unless the great commander asked him to,' Asta said. 'The lights were on, but nobody was home. I slashed the crap out of his wrists and he didn't even blink in pain.'

'Why did you…?'

A single shrug. 'Dunno really. It just had to be done. To even things up.'

Ignis frowned a little, but nothing about Asta made sense so he let it pass. 'From what you read of the research notes, do you believe that his mind is recoverable?'

'Did I hear that blonde chick from Tenebrae baked some brownies?' Asta asked hopefully.

Ignis slammed his hands down hard on the desk. His pen rolled off the edge of the desk, but neither man watched it fall.

'I don't know what to tell you,' Asta said.

'Tell me what you think.'

'I think he's gone,' Asta said bluntly. 'I think the waves from the crown fried his brain. The scientists research suggests that the mind can be compartmentalised, but I think that's bullshit. The brain is a lump of tissue, you're either there or you're not. And after being cooked for so long, he's lucky if he can tie his own shoelaces.'

'He's in there somewhere,' Ignis said, his heart overruling his mind. Because his mind agreed with Asta.

'Believe what you want. You asked for my opinion not for some sappy, flowery words of encouragement. You want lies then here ya go; sure, the kitten'll be fine and you can all go frolic in a sunny field and have tea parties in the palace courtyards.'

Ignis just stared at him long and hard.

Asta sighed. 'He's gone. Get used to it. Now can I have a goddamn brownie?'

'One final question,' Ignis said, closing his notebook, and bending to retrieve his pen. 'Why do you call him "kitten"?'

Asta smirked. 'Because he sleeps as much as a freakin' cat.'

-

'No,' Noctis said.

Ignis smiled patiently. 'It has to come out, Your Highness. You've had it in for a long time now, it will be easier for you to get the nutrients your body needs if you start eating. It will only take a few seconds, it won't hurt at all.'

Noctis swallowed hard and looked from Ignis, to the healer, to Gladiolus and then finally let his gaze rest on Prompto.

Realising he was being asked for reassurance, Prompto moved closer to the bed and slipped his hand in Noctis's. 'It'll be okay. Iggy knows what he's talking about. You'll feel better without the tube in your throat; and hey, you'll finally be able to blow your nose.'

Noctis looked a little unsure, but with Prompto's approval of the procedure he turned to Ignis and nodded.

The healer stepped forward and Prompto moved away. Noctis gave a distressed gasp and tightened his hold on the blond's hand. 'Please don't go.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' Prompto promised. 'I'm just giving the healer some space so she can work.'

Noctis shook his head furiously. 'No. No I won't do it.'

Prompto smiled sheepishly and glanced up at the healer.

'It's fine. And it's better if he relaxes,' the healer said.

'Alright.' Prompto hovered awkwardly; the bed was too low for him to hold Noctis's hand and stand up straight, so he sort of half crouched beside the bed with one hand in Noctis's vice like grip, and the other hand gently running through Noctis's hair, trying to keep him calm. Prompto had to admit that he wasn’t entirely calm himself when he saw the healer untape the NG tube from Noctis's face and then begin to pull it out.

Noctis instantly began to struggle and whimper. Prompto stroked his hair and let his fingertips brush the skin of Noctis's forehead, hoping that the touch would calm the young man down, but it barely made a difference. Noctis began to panic as the tube was pulled out of his stomach and through his throat, and that made it harder for the healer to remove it. The pain it caused fuelled Noctis's rising panic and by the time the tube was finally out there were little smears of blood on the tube and Noctis was having a full blown panic attack. Prompto knelt on the bed and gathered Noctis up in his arms, holding the thin form of his friend close to his chest and rocking him gently back and forth until the attack was under control. Once the gasps for breath had eased to little hiccups, Prompto laid Noctis back against his pillows, and brushed dark hair away from the prince's exhausted eyes.

'There, doesn't that feel better?' the healer asked.

Noctis didn't look at her, but the little shudder that racked his body made it obvious he wasn't feeling particularly better.

Ignis took place by his side again, and ran a slender hand over Noctis's forehead. Noctis allowed this; he much preferred it when Ignis treated him, instead of the nameless healers.

'You feel cooler, that's a good sign,' Ignis murmured, and smiled at him. A thermometer was placed in his mouth, and the temperature recorded. 'Yes, almost normal.'

'Am I?' Noctis asked. 'Almost normal?'

'Of course,' Prompto answered automatically. Even though the lie tasted bitter on his lips.

'Well, if this is normal I'd hate to see bad,' Gladiolus said, speaking up from where he had been watching over his charge from the foot of the bed. His worried amber gaze drank in the sight of the prince; still far too thin to be healthy, and with skin as pale as the sheets. Bandages still wound around his wrists and there was a dark bruise starting to yellow on his cheek.

'We always knew that recovery wouldn't be overnight,' Ignis said. 'But the infections are being treated, the injuries are starting to heal. Perhaps it might soon be time to try getting out of bed?' He looked to the healer for confirmation of this.

'Yes. Yes I think the sooner we can start physiotherapy the better. He's lost a lot of muscle mass, he'll need to start gentle exercises to get him back on his feet.'

Ignis nodded, then turned back to Noctis, eyeing him critically. Though he was talking more and more, Noctis still seemed reluctant to offer up information, and it was up to his friends to guess when he was cold or hot, if there were too many or not enough pillows, or, most importantly, when he was in pain. The slight frown in Noctis's brow was a dead giveaway. 'Highness? Would you like some stronger painkillers?'

Noctis mulled this over for a second, then turned to Prompto.

'It's okay if you need them. No point in being in pain,' Prompto encouraged.

Noctis turned back to Ignis. 'Yes please.'

Ignis nodded to the healer, who left to get something stronger. In the mean time Ignis pulled back the blankets to expose Noctis's skinny legs, devoid of fat or muscle. It took all his willpower to force the worry back, though he heard Gladiolus mutter a curse under his breath. It seemed the nutritional feed in the NG tube hadn't been enough to sustain Noctis; the prince didn't look any healthier than he had when he was brought in. Ignis ignored that for now, hoping that with the introduction of soft foods Noctis would start to finally get back to normal. Instead he focused on the gunshot wound to Noctis's thigh; it had been infected and badly healed, but now the skin was scarring over, the wound no longer raw and inflamed. Gently he prodded it with his fingers, and Noctis gasped.

'Still painful?' Ignis asked.

'Well _yeah_ , he got shot,' Prompto said.

Ignis looked at Noctis, but the prince didn't seem inclined to offer his own answer. Not when Prompto was willing to do it for him.

'Prompto? Perhaps you could go and get us some drinks?' Ignis asked lightly.

It had a disastrous effect. Prompto instantly went defensive, and Noctis clutched Prompto's hand tight enough to bruise. It seemed that once he had Prompto with him, Noctis gave up any semblance of independence. And on the other hand being near Noctis seemed to bring out a rather protective side of Prompto. Ignis groaned internally, not liking the conclusions his brain was jumping to.

'I'm not leaving him, not when you're hurting him like that,' Prompto said.

'I'm simply trying to ascertain-'

'Well assatay…assa…assawhatever without poking him, alright? He's been through enough without you pulling that crap on him.'

'Of course. My apologies,' Ignis said, drawing back from Noctis. He took a step away from the bed, and watched as Prompto wormed his way closer to Noctis, sitting himself up against the pillows and cuddling Noctis close to him. Noctis went willingly, burying his face in Prompto's shoulder as Prompto rubbed gentle circles on his back.

Gladiolus's arm brushed against his own, and the taller man glanced down at him. 'I know Noct's not himself right now, but this isn't Prom either. What the hell happened in Niflheim?'

'An awful lot, it would seem,' Ignis murmured, watching the two boys. 'I think they've developed some kind of co-dependent relationship. Prompto's guilt is fuelling his need to protect His Highness, and His Highness is in a delicate mental state and looking for someone to cling to. If Prompto is present, then he'll allow Prompto to answer for him, and look to him for approval.'

Gladiolus groaned, and rubbed a large hand over his face. 'Shit. What do we do about it? I mean if we separate them they'll fall to pieces.'

'We'll try to limit their time together, give them space and allow them to get used to being apart. But perhaps once His Highness is a bit better. I think ripping away his lifeline right now would be a very bad idea. His mind is already confused enough; losing Prompto might lock him away entirely.'

'You know what I feel like doing? Going down to the dungeons right now and being the living shit out of Idola for this.'

'Get in the queue,' Ignis said calmly.

'Fine. If I can't beat someone up then I'm going to go and see if there's any of Luna's brownies left. I need beer and chocolate.'

Ignis watched Noctis snuggle up to Prompto, and Prompto whisper something into Noctis's ear to get the younger man to settle down for sleep.

'I think I might join you.'

'For beer and brownies?' Gladiolus asked, shocked.

Ignis removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. 'It's one of those days.'


	12. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis and Prompto have different demons to battle, but they're starting to overcome them. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but doesn't the saying go that its always darkest before the dawn?
> 
> Also baking, because why not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! It's NaNoWriMo month, and also the month leading up to the Japanese Language Proficiency Test and time just got away from me! I'm sorry!
> 
> I think (and don't quote me) I can see an end to this story looming on the horizon. I have three more chapters plotted out (unless I think of something else to add).
> 
> But anyway, have another chapter! ^^ Hope you like it! ♥

'Skulls or headphones?' Gladiolus asked, holding up two black shirts with different designs printed on them.

Noctis chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, then turned to Prompto for guidance.

'The skull one was always your favourite,' Prompto said. He was perched on the side of the hospital bed beside Noctis, close enough so that their knees brushed together for contact. Already there were a pair of dark trousers on the bed, and a fresh pair of boxers and some socks. Today was the day that Noctis was officially allowed out of bed. No more hospital gowns, no more lying around looking pale and sickly.

Noctis turned back to Gladiolus and nodded.

With a meaningful glance at Ignis, Gladiolus set the skull t-shirt down on the pile of clothes. 'Okay little guy, think you're ready for your shower.'

'This will be nice after all these weeks,' Prompto said. 'Bed baths can't be fun. You'll love having all the water around you, and getting to be properly clean again. Still some blood in your hair even.'

Noctis's hand went to his hair but all he felt was lank, limp strands. He did feel disgusting. Prompto was right; this would be nice. 'Okay.'

'Whoa whoa whoa,' Prompto said, grabbing his arm when he tried to scoot over to the edge of the bed. 'Careful. You haven't been on your feet in weeks, remember? Take it slowly.'

'Oh,' Noctis said. He hadn't remembered, but if Prompto said so then it must be true. 'How?'

'How do you shower? Well, that's where the marvellous, fantastic chair comes in.'

Noctis finally looked at the wheelchair sat beside his bed. So that was for him.

'No need to look so freaked, I've got you covered,' the big guy that he thought was called Gladiolus said. He'd need to check the book to be certain, but there wasn't time as Gladiolus was moving toward him and slipping massive, tattooed arms underneath his legs and behind his back.

'Can he?' Noctis asked, worried.

Prompto snorted. 'He could carry you before like you weighed nothing, now after your crash diet he won't even bat an eyelid. Right, Muscles?'

'Right,' Gladiolus said. 'Just tell me if it hurts or anything, alright?'

'Okay.'

Gladiolus was watching his reaction carefully, but it didn't hurt. It made him feel tiny as he was lifted up with no effort at all, and gingerly placed inside the wheelchair. He looked down at his legs as the man with glasses, Ignis he reminded himself, fussed about setting his feet on the little footholds. His legs looked so thin, and so white as if all the blood had been drained away from them. It was cold outside the bed and he must have shivered because Ignis was quick to pull the top blanket off the bed and tuck it neatly around his legs.

'Is that better?' Ignis asked.

'Thank you.'

Ignis rested a slender hand on his knee, bony even through the blanket, and the older man sighed before standing up and going around the back to grab the handles of the chair.

Noctis panicked a little, and grabbed the wheels to stop the chair moving. The rubber burned his hands and Ignis stopped pushing immediately.

'Highness?'

'I want…I…'

Prompto knew what he wanted. Prompto always knew. Without him even having to ask Prompto slipped around the bed and took Ignis's place at the helm of the wheelchair.

'S'okay, Noct. It's not very far anyway,' Prompto said.

Just having Prompto in charge, though, was enough to settle him down. He felt calm as Prompto pushed him toward the corner of the room, where there was a little bathroom with a big shower that took up most of the space. Inside the cubicle was a chair. He was wheeled in front of it, then Prompto was crouching in front of him, hands on the arms of the wheelchair.

'Okay, so we're gonna need to get you in there. With no clothes on. I know this is gonna be kinda really weird, but we're all friends, right? And we've seen each other naked before. If you want me and Iggy to leave, just say so. Gladio needs to stay I'm afraid, since he's the one that's going to lift you onto the chair.'

'I don't mind. I want you to stay,' Noctis said.

The hands on the arms of his chair moved to rub up and down his own bare arms. Prompto's hands were cold.

'Got it. We're not leaving, then.'

Taking the nightgown off was easy enough, and Prompto tasked himself with it. It took a little bit of shuffling Noctis, and then he slipped it up over the prince's head, leaving Noctis almost naked. Prompto found that he didn't even blush at seeing Noctis in just boxer shorts; the poor guy didn't look anything like the man he used to know. Ribs stuck out against pale skin, darkened only where the bruising had yet to fade away. The discs of Noctis's spine were far too visible, and the collarbone was razor sharp, the skin in the hollow sunken in drastically. Prompto felt a pang of anger, sadness and guilt twist into his stomach like a knife.

Noctis was just looking down at his boxers, and plucked at them with bony fingers.

'Yeah, those next,' Prompto said, and helped him with them. This was harder and required a lot more moving Noctis about, but they managed it with Gladiolus lifting Noctis up a little by his armpits. Once that was done Ignis laid a towel over Noctis's lap to spare him a little dignity.

Prompto ran the water until it was warm, then stood back so Gladiolus could lift Noctis onto the seat in the shower. The towel was taken away, and then it was Prompto's turn.

'You're getting wet,' Noctis pointed out, lifting a hand to touch the damp blond spikes of hair falling in Prompto's eyes.

'Well yeah, only way to get you clean. I hafta be in here with you,' Prompto said. 'So you better appreciate me!' With a grin he reached for the shampoo and squirted some into his hand. 'Actually, payback is getting to see your hair all flat like this. I didn't realise it had got so long.'

Noctis looked up at him through the dark curtain of his fringe. 'I don't know what it looks like. I've seen my picture in the book, so I suppose I look like that.'

Prompto cut himself off before he could say that Noctis barely resembled his picture anymore. Instead he concentrated on rubbing the shampoo into Noctis's hair, and scritching his friend's scalp with his nails to make sure he was clean. It was having another effect; Noctis's eyes slipped closed and the man let out a soft hum of contentment as Prompto massaged his head. It was cute, and Prompto was almost sad when he had to stop. He treated the dark haired man to a round of conditioner, too, then began scrubbing Noctis's thin body clean with bodywash.

It still scared him how thin Noctis was; when he held Noctis's arm in his hands it was like he was touching a doll. It would be far too easy to snap an arm or leg, and he had horrific images of doing just that, or of leaving a trail bruises on the pale, paper thin skin wherever he touched. He hurried to finish, not wanting to hurt Noctis despite the fact his friend didn't seem remotely distressed.

Once he was done Gladiolus lifted Noctis out of the chair and Ignis was there with the fluffiest towel know to man. Prompto dried himself off while he watched them work; Noctis cradled in Gladiolus's arms while Ignis fussed over him, taking care to dry him off completely so he didn't catch another illness. Without any products to style it, Noctis's hair ended up fluffy and spiky. Prompto smiled as he ran the towel through his own hair; they looked like a family or something, with two doting parents worrying over their kid.

Next came dressing, which was more difficult. Noctis was just about able to take his own sleight weight, but Gladiolus had to steady him and hold him up. Ignis helped Noctis get the trousers and shirt on, though they hung off his thin frame almost comically. The belt had to be tightened so far around Noctis's hips there wasn't even a notch for it. But once he was back in his everyday clothes, he did look a little better. If only because there was no longer a reminder that he was ill.

Back in the chair, he was wheeled down the hall to a large room with mats and equipment stacked up around the edge of the room. A set of parallel bars stood near the centre, and this was where Prompto rolled Noctis to.

'Ready to give walking a try, now you've got your threads?'

'Can I?' Noctis asked, twisting his body to look at Prompto. 'Do you think I'll be able to?'

'Well, we won't know until you try. We'll be here, you're not gonna fall. And you don't want to be stuck in the chair forever, right? Your legs should be fine, the longer you put this off the harder it's going to be to get walking again.'

Slowly Noctis nodded, then looked at the bars again as if they might suddenly vanish and leave him stranded.

'We’ll take it slowly,' Ignis said, coming to his side and placing a hand on his narrow shoulder.

Prompto smiled and reached up to ruffle his damp hair. 'You'll be fine, buddy. Promise.'

That sealed the deal. Noctis nodded, and the two men moved away from his chair so that Gladiolus could help him stand. He'd managed it before in the bathroom, but now he was starting to get tired. Gladiolus carried him right over to the bars, and held him tightly around the waist while he worked on finding his grip on the bars.

'I don't know,' Noctis said worriedly, glancing about frantically until his gaze settled on Prompto, standing a few feet away in front of him, between the bars.

'Just take little steps. Gladio won't let you fall.'

Noctis took a deep breath and pulled away from his bodyguard. Instantly his legs crumpled beneath him and he did all he could to push against the bars but he still kept falling. Arms grabbed him and stopped him slipping to the floor but his heart was still pounding.

'Highness,' Ignis said, ducking under one of the bars and taking his arm. Prompto was there in an instant taking the other. 'Try using us as crutches,' Ignis suggested.

Hands still hovered behind him, he could feel them, but with two men holding his arms and taking some of his weight it was easier to move forward. He shuffled each step, barely taking his feet off the ground, but it was progress. He was moving forward under his own steam.

They did a few more lengths up and down the walkway until Noctis's arms began to shake badly with the effort. Gladiolus was there to scoop him up and carry him back to the wheelchair, while Ignis disappeared and Prompto bent down to give the prince a hug.

'You did really well there, buddy. Really well. Anyone would think you've been practicing!'

Noctis was looking rather ashen after his exercise, but he managed a weak smile at the praise.

Ignis returned carrying a pair of crutches, which he held out to Noctis. 'I think next time we try you might need these While you were walking I observed that you favour your left leg. There may still be some lingering damage to the right one from the gunshot wound, for now it might be advisable to try crutches.'

Noctis frowned, and looked at Prompto. 'But I have you.'

Prompto laughed. 'Yeah, but what if I'm not around? And when you're better enough to start attending council and stuff again, I won't be allowed inside the audience chamber and stuff. You need them to be independent.'

'But I have you,' Noctis repeated, clearly not understanding. In fact Prompto admitted that he wouldn't always be around served only to fuel his paranoia.

Prompto was caught off guard a little, and he glanced over at Ignis who looked just as lost as he did. So instead he reached over and squeezed Noctis's hand. 'You'll always have me, Noct.'

That seemed to calm the prince a little, and he settled back in his chair though his gaze was focused on Prompto as if the blond might vanish into thin air.

'So, will you try the crutches next time?' Prompto asked.

'Okay. If you think it's a good idea,' Noctis said.

'I do,' Prompto said worriedly. 'I really do.'

-

Nothing good ever came from being summoned to the king's personal office. Nothing.

There had been the time when he'd convinced Noctis to sneak out of the castle to go to a gig in town. The night had been a blast - the technically underage prince had held his drink pretty well but then the cheep beer probably had less alcohol in it than a glass of apple juice. They were on track to be back home before anyone could realise the prince was missing, when Noctis - more drunk than Prompto had realised - decided to try playing chicken on the road with his warp ability. He passed out drunk mid warp in front of car, with Prompto desperately trying to reach him in time to knock him out of the way. Prompto had been standing outside this very door the morning after, ready to explain to King Regis why between them they had managed to break eight bones when they should have been tucked up safely in bed.

His knock was soft, and he half hoped that the king wouldn't be there. Luck was not on his side; a muffled "come in" sounded from inside, and with a resigned sigh Prompto pushed open the heavy wooden door, feeling like a scared teenager all over again.

The office hadn't changed much over the years, but the man sat behind the desk had. Older, greyer, with cheeks more sunken and darker shadows beneath his tired eyes. King Regis looked like he could be Noctis's grandfather rather than his father.

'Please, take a seat,' the king said, waving a hand at the chair across the desk.

Not wanting to disobey a request, yet not wanting to stay long enough that being seated would be a requirement, Prompto reluctantly perched himself on the edge of the seat. His knee bobbed up and down unconsciously; he wanted to leave. Wanted to go back to Noctis. What if he was needed?

'It's been a while,' the king began. 'I should have done this much sooner. I apologise, Prompto, it's been a hell of a few weeks. Since you and Noctis returned things…well they've not been easy.'

'No. No of course,' Prompto said. 'How are you, your majesty?'

'Fine, thank you. What doesn't kill you better start running, as Cor would say.' The king chuckled, and then sighed softly, as if he had been trying too hard to make a joke and lighten the air. 'I asked you here to talk about you, though, not me. How are _you_ doing, Prompto?'

The question caught him off guard, enough so that it took him a few seconds to even think about how to answer. Lie? Tell the truth? What good would telling the truth do? What could anyone do? It felt as if he was falling apart at the seams, as if everything that made him Prompto Argentum was being pulled away piece by piece. The anxiety attacks, the nightmares…they plagued him every moment of his life. The only time he was calm was when he was with Noctis. When he could touch the other man and make sure that he really had managed to bring him back home with him, and that the prince wasn't fading away in a cell under Niflheim…

'Prompto?' the king asked again. 'Are you alright? You've gone pale…'

'I'm fine,' Prompto said with a slightly shaky voice. 'I'm fine.' He repeated, stronger this time. 'It's just been tough for all of us, like you said.'

King Regis watched him for a long moment, as if weighing up his words. 'It has been tough, and I want to apologise for putting you through it. It was unfair of me to ask you to return to Niflheim like that. I'm sorry, Prompto. I was being selfish, risking you like that to-'

'To help Noct,' Prompto finished. 'And I'd do it again a million times over. You don't need to apologise for sending me, I was trying to think of a way of getting to him anyway. Your plan was brilliant. I was able to get in and see him…' Even if he hadn't been able to do a damn thing to help. Except watch Noctis slowly die.

'Thank you,' King Regis said. His usually strong voice sounded odd, and when Prompto looked up he saw tears swimming in the older man's eyes. 'I can't…I can't thank you enough.'

'I literally didn't do anything,' Prompto whispered.

'You were there for him. You looked after him and you stayed by his side. You saved him, Prompto. And from what I hear you're helping him now. It's you he always asks for, and you he's most calm around. You're doing an astounding job helping him through this.'

Prompto shrugged a single shoulder, still feeling guilt well up in his stomach. If he was dong such a great job why wasn't their Noctis back yet? Why were his memories still locked up tightly? His fist gripped the fabric of his jeans to try and steady the trembling of his leg. Damn, why were his pills so far away in his room? A couple more just to calm his nerves would be perfect right now.

'I can't just leave him. This is what I want to do,' Prompto said.

'I still wish to thank you. For risking your life going into enemy territory and acting as a spy, for being with Noctis. I can never thank you enough, but anything you want is yours. You just have to ask.'

Prompto shook his head. 'Thanks, but I didn't do it for money or fancy cars or anything. I did it because I wanted Noctis back.'

The king smiled. 'And that's why you're his best friend.'

'Some best friend I am. I couldn't bring him back. I brought back a Noctis shaped doll instead of the guy we love.' Not good; his breathing was starting to get faster. The panic was rising within him, and it was a physical effort to push it down.

'Noctis is Noctis,' King Regis said softly, sinking back into his chair. The shadows in his face darkened, and for a moment he looked ancient and lost. 'Perhaps I'm selfish, perhaps he'd prefer death over what he's become now, but I'd rather have him living and breathing without his memory than to be mourning my only family.'

The panic faded a little, and Prompto managed a small smile. 'That makes me selfish too, then.'

'You've earned a little selfishness,' the king said. 'Thank you again for bringing him home, Prompto. If he'd…I don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost him.'

'Me either,' Prompto said.

King Regis reached for an almost empty whiskey bottle, and poured a measure into a fancy crystal glass. He pushed it toward Prompto and then held out the bottle ready to toast. 'To being selfish bastards.'

Their glasses clinked, and Prompto savoured the burn of alcohol on his throat.

-

'Hey, you're allowed back in the kitchens,' Gladiolus pointed out as the group of four friends made their slow way into the palace kitchens.

Slow because they were going as fast as their slowest member; Noctis was shuffling along on his crutches and hadn't quite got the hang of using them yet. Or the hang of being upright for long. His legs were still too weak to support him very far, and he'd had a few breaks on his way from the medical wing to their destination.

'I am indeed. The rules are I'm to replace what I use, and I'm to be out of the way by the time the chefs need to prepare dinner.' Luna smiled at them; she was wearing a dark grey sweatshirt, a pair of jeans, and a liberal coating of flour. Without make up and in such common clothing she was doing her best to look like a commoner, but the way she held herself, and the natural beauty and confidence she possessed betrayed her secret, even with the mottled scarring down her face that disappeared into the neck line of her sweater.

She caught Noctis's gaze and smiled warmly. 'Hello, Your Highness.'

Noctis glanced briefly at the scar over half her face; though it robbed her of some beauty, the confidence she wore more than made up for it. 'Hello. I'm sorry if I've been told your name, but I can't remember it.'

'You have, but it's alright,' she said softly, and held out a delicate hand. 'I'm Luna.'

'Hello,' Noctis said again. After a quick glance to Prompto to check that it was alright he lifted a hand, even thinner than her own, to shake hers. He hadn't counted on the fact that taking his hand off the crutch would overbalance him, and he would have fallen had Gladiolus not grabbed him and steadied him.

Luna's cheeks heated up, and she rushed forward to help him take hold of the crutch again. 'I'm so sorry, I should have realised…Etro, I'm such a klutz sometimes…'

Noctis was blushing too, especially when his hand brushed hers, and he pulled back a little too fast to be polite. 'Sorry,' he muttered, looking up trying to find Prompto again, and only calming down when he had the blond man in his sight.

'So what are you doing here?' Luna asked, trying to lighten the mood. 'Nothing is ready to eat yet I'm afraid.'

'We thought that perhaps it would be nice for His Highness to be up and about a little,' Ignis began. 'And we'd heard you were baking again, so we thought that he might like to try baking too. And seeing other people is good for him.'

'Well, baking I can help with. My mother taught me, and it's one of those things you never forget,' she said brightly, then caught herself. Noctis had lost _all_ of his memories. And the important things, such as his friends and family, and his own name even, not silly thinks like baking. She paled a little, and watched Noctis for any reaction of hurt, but he didn't seem to have even noticed.

'Let's get baking then, I'm starved,' Gladiolus said, wandering over to find a mixing bowl.

Bowls were handed out, but Noctis didn't want his own. He wanted to work with Prompto. Already his legs were starting to ache and go weak, so Prompto stood behind him and wrapped his arms around Noctis to help support him as they worked cracking eggs and pouring flour and sugar into the bowl.

'You know, you could get him a chair,' Gladiolus pointed out with a grin. 'Though I have to admit that's cuter.'

Luna smiled at them. 'It really is sweet. You really care for him, Prom.'

'Course I do. Always have, always will,' Prompto said, dropping his chin to rest on Noctis's shoulder as he watched Noctis slowly stir the mixture. His wrist was so thin and pale it was almost blue where the veins stood out harshly. The only colour was from the half healed slashes across the wrist. Prompto wanted to take the arm in his own and kiss away the pain.

'What are you making, Noctis?' Luna asked as she beat her own mixture. She had some serious muscle for this, clearly she was well practiced.

'Umm…' Noctis tilted his head to look at Prompto, whose face was pressed up against his own.

'Cookies,' Prompto said.

Luna smiled. 'Nice. What do you want to put in them?'

'Uh…?' Again Noctis deferred to Prompto who was more than happy to choose.

'Chocolate chips. You like those. Or at least you used to,' Prompto said.

'Okay,' Noctis said.

Luna paused in her stirring and watched as Prompto held Noctis around the waist and spoke softly into his ear, and how Noctis sort of played around with the batter, not really mixing effectively at all, more just going through the motions. Her gaze sought out Ignis, who was watching her carefully. The bespectacled man just shook his head sadly.

'You getting tired Noct?' Prom asked, his hand gently rubbing up and down Noctis's side.

'I guess? A little?'

'No sense exhausting yourself over cookies. That's what you pay Muscles for. We should get your money's worth.'

'Muscles is within hearing shot, little man,' Gladiolus said with a grin.

'And what, you're going to let your prince work his fingers to the bone making you cookies without helping him?' Prompto asked. 'Some bodyguard you are.'

Gladiolus turned away from his own bowl and cracked his knuckles. 'Alright, alright, what am I doing?'

'Mixing that. He hasn't got very far, but he's tried at least,' Prompto said, then turned to Noctis. 'You did good.'

Gladiolus took over mixing, and Prompto realised just how tired Noctis had made himself. With less effort than he would have liked he lifted Noctis up onto the counter so he didn't have to stand anymore. He slipped one arm around Noctis's waist and rested against Noctis's side as they watched Gladiolus work.

'That's it, keep stirring,' Prompto encouraged.

'Easy for you to say, you're just standing there,' Gladiolus grumbled. 'This is harder than it looks. Did you put enough milk in?'

'Milk?' Noctis asked.

Prompto smiled sheepishly. 'Guess that's a no?'

Gladiolus sighed and went to fetch milk.

'Did we put sugar in?' Prompto whispered to Noctis.

'I don't…know?' Noctis said.

'Damn these are gonna be awful.'

'Fortunately I've already made a batch, and they should be just about ready,' Luna said, hurrying over to one of the ovens and removing a tray of golden, perfectly baked chocolate chip cookies. She set the tray by the boys, but before she had even let go of it Gladiolus had snatched one up.

'Oww, hot,' he said around a mouthful of chewy biscuit.

'That would be because they just came out of the oven,' Luna said patiently. She slapped at Gladiolus's hand when he went for another. 'At least let me put them on the cooling rack first.'

'Back to stirring, slave,' Prompto demanded, taking the cookie that Gladiolus had been about to snatch. It was gorgeous; slightly too hot still, but the chocolate chips were melted and the batter was perfectly baked. Before he knew it he'd eaten two more.

'Why are you baking?' Ignis asked, after placing his own cupcakes in an oven to start baking. 'Did the knitting fall through?'

'Turns out there's not much need for a thirty foot long holey scarf. I unravelled it so that someone can use the wool for something useful. I suppose…I'm just looking for excuses. Things to fill my time in with so that I don't have to talk to my parents. I'm not ready to forgive them after they sided with Idola and were prepared to attack Lucis. So now I'm stress baking.'

'And I'm stress eating,' said Prompto. 'This is a dangerous combination.'

Gladiolus poked at Prompto's waist. 'You could use a few calories.'

Prompto took a bite from another, then hovered it in front of Noctis's face. 'You wanna try one? They're really good. Better than ours are going to be.'

Noctis was melted like one of the chocolate chips, limp against his side. He would have fallen to the floor had Prompto stepped away from him. Even still he glanced up at the sound of Prompto's voice, because it was Prompto's voice. Above everything else in his muddled mind, that was the one thing he remembered from "before". The one memory that could never fade. He associated it with the numb, blackness of his mind. A shining light that had anchored him to reality even when he hadn't been able to find his voice to answer.

Now he could answer. And though he wasn't hungry and wouldn't have eaten of his own accord, he assented to a bite of cookie. He decided that he didn't like chocolate anymore, though. He did, however, like the arm around his waist and how close Prompto was to him. It made him feel safe and secure, and the thudding of his heart slowed down whenever Prompto touched him like this.

'It's nice to see you up and about again, Your Highness,' Luna said, leaning against the counter and watching him with a smile. 'How are you feeling?'

Noctis's lips moved silently, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. Instead he glanced down at Prompto.

Prompto's hand rubbed gentle circles on his back, and with his free hand he broke off another bit of cookie for Noctis. 'He's doing better. His leg is a bit messed up so he's on crutches, and he's still pretty weak and gets tired easily.'

'I see,' Luna said, but she was frowning as she watched Noctis carefully examine the bit of cookie, then slowly pop it in his mouth. 'Noctis? Is anything coming back to you at all? Memories, people, places?'

Again, Noctis didn't bother to speak. He just waited, knowing that Prompto would answer for him.

There was barely a heartbeat pause before Prompto answered out of habit. 'Not really. His short term memory is getting better, but he doesn't really have any memories of anything before. It's like…kind of like his memory is a blank slate.'

Noctis nodded, but he wasn't looking at anything in particular, just down at his hands. Luna turned instead to Gladiolus and Ignis. Gladiolus got the hint, and slapped a hand on Prompto's shoulder.

'Blondie, come help me with the brownies Luna baked. They need looking at, and we can taste test them.'

Prompto frowned and drew a little closer to Noctis. 'Cant you do it?'

'You're saying no to brownies? Prompto the great chocoholic?' Gladiolus asked.

'But you could bring them-'

'Come on, they're better piping hot from the oven.'

Before Prompto could protest he was being dragged across the large kitchen. Out of earshot so that Luna and Ignis could talk.

'What exactly is going on?' Luna asked in a hushed whisper.

Ignis sighed and removed his glasses, checking the lenses for smears. They were crystal clear. 'Noctis won't answer if Prompto is with him. He has no need to; Prompto will do it for him.'

'But why? What…what's going on?'

'I'm not entirely sure myself, but it seems that while they were in Niflheim the stress has made them rather dependant on one another. And I fear that Prompto is actually repressing Noctis's recovery. Try asking him something now. You'll see what I mean.'

Luna stepped toward Noctis, who was staring across the kitchen to where Prompto and Gladiolus were devouring the brownies straight from the tray. His legs were swinging absently, and he jumped a mile when someone touched his knee. When he noticed who it was, he relaxed a little.

'Hello, Highness.'

'Hello. Um…?'

'Luna. Do you remember me at all?'

'No. Sorry,' Noctis said automatically.

Luna wasn't one to give up easily, though. 'Try, Highness. Just for a moment. Do you know what my surname is?'

'No,' Noctis said again, a little more irritably. Then he turned his attention away from Prompto and actually looked at her. Properly. Perhaps it was because she was something new, perhaps because he had strong memories attached to her that were easier to drag to the surface. But something flashed in his mind like a movie running on fast forward. It hit him like a punch, and he physically almost slipped off the work top, and possibly would have if Luna hadn't held him up and steadied him.

'Noctis?' she whispered.

Images were all over the place, like a puzzle that had been broken up and the pieces tossed over the floor. Together they made a memory, but the fragments were shattered and incomprehensible. There was the feeling of cold and pain. The stench of blood and burning. The blinding gold light.

'Do you remember my last name?' Luna asked, staring into his eyes.

'No,' Noctis repeated, but his thin hand reached up to touch the raised, melted skin on her face. 'But I remember you didn't used to have this when you were little.'

'That's right. It happened a few weeks ago.'

'But I don't remember your name.'

'Names aren't important,' she said with a smile. 'If you remember nothing else, remember that. All that matters are feelings, and how you feel about your family and friends. Those memories are the ones that can never be erased, because they're the important ones.'

The moment was broken as Prompto came back over, and not too discreetly sidled up to Noctis. 'Hey buddy, you've got to try these. They're melt in the mouth gorgeous chocolate heaven. I saved one for you before the behemoth over there vacuumed them all up.'

'Hey, you ate as many as I did!' Gladiolus protested.

Noctis looked at the brownie on the tray, then shook his head. 'I don't like chocolate anymore.'

For a second Prompto looked stunned, then he set the tray down. 'Wow, never thought I'd hear you say that! I guess…you really have changed.'

Noctis's stomach twisted painfully. 'Have I?'

'Well, a bit? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…'

'It's okay. I'm different. I get it,' Noctis said, looking at the lonely cake on the tray. 'Maybe different isn't bad, though? Different is just different.'

Prompto frowned, and sent a strange look to Luna and Ignis, as if asking them just what they'd been talking about while he'd been gone. 'Different is fine. And you'll get your memories back soon and then-'

'But what if I don't. What if this is me now? What if this is the new…new…' the twisting pain in his stomach flared up. He'd forgotten his own name again. That hadn't happened in a while. Panic rose up within him, his breathing started to speed up and his vision began to grey out as a buzzing deafened him. Then arms slipped around him, and drew him close. A warm body and soft words. And that familiar voice. Even if he forgot everything, he'd never forget that voice, or the warm safe feelings he associated with it.

'It's okay, Noct. Whatever happens, it'll be okay.' Prompto said the words he needed to say, and he said them with such conviction he almost believed them himself. But he knew deep down that he couldn't ever stop trying until he got Noctis back. The real Noctis. He'd been the one to let Noctis slip away, he was going to damn well make sure he got him back.

-

The door to the music room closed with a barely audible _snick_ , and then the room plunged into silence. Ignis crossed the room quietly and took a seat on one of the comfortable chairs next to Prompto. Gladiolus sat opposite them, taking up most of a sofa as he sprawled across it. Though his posture was relaxed his amber gaze was fixed on Prompto, almost in warning. As if to discourage him from getting up to avoid this conversation.

Prompto had to admit he was likely to bolt. He felt even more nervous than he had in front of King Regis. He could fool the king but not his best friends.

'So what's up?' Prompto asked once they were all seated in uncomfortable silence.

'How many pills have you had today, Prom?' Ignis asked. His voice was a gentle candle flicker, but packed the punch of a raging inferno.

Prompto swallowed and licked his suddenly dry lips. How many was he supposed to have? Three, three times a day. It was after lunch, so it would be six. 'Six.'

'Liar,' Gladiolus said without batting an eyelid.

'I…'

'Prompto,' Ignis said sternly to get his attention. 'How many?'

The emerald gaze was hard to hold, so Prompto looked away. Gladiolus was no help; the elder men were united in concern for him. He could tell they were worried, and he didn't want to add to their stress. They already had enough to worry about with Noctis, and the mess Lucis was in.

'I don't remember,' Prompto said. That wasn't technically a lie; he thought it was ten, but it could have been twelve. He wasn't sure if he'd had those two earlier this morning after Noctis had started coughing and the healers had panicked over him. Panicking healers had panicked Prom, and he'd gone off to the bathroom and palmed a few pills. He just couldn't remember if he took them or replaced them in the bottle.

A hand covered his. Ignis had shifted to the edge of his seat, and was barely inches from him. 'Prom, think carefully. How many have you had today?'

'I don't know, alright?' he exploded, pulling his hand back. Suddenly he was on his feet, and the blood was pounding in his ears making him dizzy. 'Just leave me alone, leave me the hell alone. Why can't you-'

Strong arms wrapped around him, and pulled him back to a thick muscled chest. 'We can't leave you alone. Because we love you, we're not gonna let you do this to yourself, little guy. Can't you see what it's doing to you?'

'What are you talking about?' Prompto asked, struggling within Gladiolus's arms as he tried to break free. He needn't have bothered; even if he was feeling a hundred percent there was no way he could outmuscle the tank.

'It's my fault,' Ignis said sadly as he rose to his feet and reached out a hand to touch Prompto's cheek. 'I'm sorry, Prom. I thought I was helping. I warned they could be addictive, but I wasn't watching closely enough to see the signs.'

'What signs? What are you talking about?' Prompto snapped.

'Ironically, aggression and irritability are two of the more common side effects. Your temper has been rather short lately. Especially when it comes to suggesting you need a break, or rest.'

'I don't need a break or rest or anything like that. I'm _fine_.'

'The healers have mentioned that drugs have been going missing from the supplies. Specifically the drugs I recommended for you. You've been taking more than you should, haven't you?'

'Maybe one or two, just when things are really bad,' Prompto said defensively. 'But I haven't been stealing them.' That was true. He left money for the drugs on the shelf after he'd taken the pills. It sort of justified what he was doing in a twisted sort of way.

'Prom,' Gladiolus began, his voice rumbling his chest. 'What the hell are you doing? You're gonna hurt yourself. These meds aren't things to mess around with. You think we want to find you unconscious in your bathroom after an overdose or something? After all that's just happened, seeing you like that would kill us. You know that, right?'

'I wouldn't….'

'You wouldn't have much control over it, if you take too many. You'd pass out, we might not find you in time. If you don't care about what you're doing to yourself, at least care about what it would do to us. And Noct. How the hell do you think he'd react if we had to tell him you were dead when he asks for you? And you think he'd remember once we'd told him? No. He'd keep asking, and we'd have to keep telling him and ripping his world out from under his feet, over and over again.'

Prompto felt sick and dizzy, and swayed in Gladiolus's arms. The stronger man lowered him to the floor, then gathered him up in his arms. Ignis dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around Prompto in a close in a hug.

'I don't wanna die,' Prompto said, his voice hiccupping as he spoke. 'I don't want to leave you guys. Or hurt you.'

'Then don't,' Ignis said softly. 'We'll help you get off them. Start slowly, bring the dose back down to two pills, and try twice a day. See how you get on, and for Etro's sake _talk_ to us, Prom. Tell us how you're feeling so we can help you.'

'I will. I promise,' Prompto said, trembling slightly whether from anxiety or fear he wasn't sure. 'But I don't want any more of them. I want to stop now.'

'That's probably not the best way-'

'They're not helping, you're right. I still feel anxious all the time anyway. So I might as well stop them now, and kill the addiction.'

'Prompto…' Ignis began, then sighed. 'I suggest against it.'

'But you know I'll do it anyway.'

'Exactly,' Ignis said, shaking his head then pressing a kiss to the top of Prompto's hair. 'You're an idiot, but you're our little idiot. Just make sure you keep talking to us. Keep telling us how you feel, if you need anything.'

'And hey, come sleep in my room for a few nights, yeah? We can have a sleepover. Might make it easier if you're with someone,' Gladiolus said.

'Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that,' Prompto said, and for the first time in forever the little knot inside his stomach loosened a little.

After he was finally allowed free, he made a beeline for his room. There were empty bottles everywhere, and he gathered them all up from their hiding places; under his mattress, hidden in pockets of clothes in his wardrobe, buried in the dirt in a flower pot. He chucked them all in the bin, then gathered up the four full bottles.

It took tremendous effort not to pop the lid and down some. His hands were trembling as he carried them to the bathroom and opened the first bottle up. He watched himself in the mirror, and almost dropped the bottle; his friends were serious. He looked awful. Pale, drawn, skinnier than he had ever been in his life. Unhealthy. Addicted.

With renewed determination he tipped the pills down the toilet. He did the same with the other bottles then took a deep breath and flushed them all away. He was done with pills. He didn't need them to be happy. Not when he had his friends. He would get better for them, only then could he help Noctis get better too. They'd get through this. They'd get Noctis back. Then everything would go back to how it was.


	13. Snapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto is shattering, Noctis is having a break through. But the fragile balance is about to come crashing down around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it takes me so long to write, not feeling particuarly happy and shiny at the moment. And been busy with work and studying for a Japanese test (which is Sunday, so then I can stop studying so much!)
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well, and I really hope anyone still reading enjoys this chapter! The next one should hopefully be up sooner. Have a lovely weekend! ♥

Noctis was mobile. While Prompto had wanted nothing more than to see Noctis up and about since it meant his friend was doing better, the fact that everywhere he went Noctis followed him like a limping duckling was starting to get…grating. And Prompto hated himself for even thinking that but his head was pounding, his heart was hammering in his chest and he just wanted to be alone for five minutes. Noctis even followed him to the bathroom, though, and Prompto's patience was starting to wear thin.

In the back of his mind an Ignis sounding voice chastised him for going cold turkey on the anxiety pills. If he was honest with himself he was feeling pretty stupid for doing it since the withdrawal was killer. He felt scared and anxious all the time like his skin was crawling. He wanted to go to his room for a nap to take the edge off but as he made his way up the stairs he heard a little sound and looked back to see Noctis at the foot of the stairs looking confused. And his heart broke. He could have kept on walking and made a clean run for his room, but Noctis was looking up at him with longing in his eyes so Prompto hurried back down and took one of the crutches from Noctis.

'Grab the rail with your free hand. You remember how?' Prompto asked.

'No,' Noctis said in the timid, nervy voice that he reserved for when Prompto was around.

Now that his mind was clearer for being drug-free Prompto could see just how clingy Noctis was being. And it scared him. It scared him so much he had asked Ignis about it, who had admitted that when Prompto wasn't around Noctis was much more independent. The fear was enough to get Prompto being a little harsher than he would have liked, helped by the withdrawal process that was making him agitated and stressed. He didn't want to be the reason why Noctis wasn't getting better. But he couldn't _not_ help Noctis when he was in need, and he hated himself for it. Even now he had a hand at the small of Noctis's back to help guide the prince up the stairs as if he didn't know the way around his own home.

'There. You're doing really well, Noct,' Prompto soothed. But the little voice in the back of his mind was taunting him, reminding him of how Noctis used to be. Noctis would have strutted up the stairs two at a time without a glance over his shoulder as he would have been so sure Prompto was following. The ghost that was inhabiting the shell of his friend was a completely different person now and it tore at Prompto when he reminded himself that it was his fault; for not stopping things sooner, for not removing the slave crown sooner, for not doing _something_ sooner. For days he had sat by Noctis's side just holding his hand and watching his mind shatter into pieces. And now his best friend was gone.

At the top of the stairs Noctis paused again with his bony hand gripping the top of the handrail tightly as he searched the corridor. There were four doors; two either side and then a grand set of doors at the far end. But still even with a choice of only four rooms Noctis looked lost.

'Your room is there,' Prompto said, pointing to one of the closed doors. 'Mine is diagonal to yours, remember? I'm going to go and take a nap, you should probably do the same. You look a little tired.'

Noctis nodded. 'Okay then.'

'Okay,' Prompto said, relieved that Noctis was so willing to always do as he suggested.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he really did need five minutes alone. So he handed over Noctis's crutch and started off for his bedroom. The rhythmic thuds of crutches against the thin carpet didn't stop even after they passed Noctis's door. With an inward groan Prompto realised the problem; Noctis thought that he was coming to sleep _with_ Prompto.

Slowly he turned around, and poor Noctis almost walked right into him. 'Noct, your room is that one.'

Noctis didn't look back. 'But you're going in this room.'

'Yes, because this is _my_ room,' Prompto said as patiently as he could. But damn his head was pounding, like fireworks exploding in his brain. 'You need to go to _your_ room.'

Noctis just looked confused.

'Noct, you need to spend some time away from me. I'm not good for you,' Prompto said, rubbing his hand through his hair and noting how his hand trembled. 'Just for a little bit, yeah? Just go and do something that you want to do, without me.'

Noctis looked like he'd been kicked. 'But I want to be with you. That's all I want. I feel safe when I'm with you.'

Well what was he supposed to say to that? It was a kick in the gut, and he felt both immensely protective and horrified at the same time. When had things got so bad? And did he dare leave Noctis alone when he was looking so lost like this? He couldn't do it. All he wanted was to protect Noctis, to make up for his previous failing, but he was breaking himself. He needed rest and alone time, but he couldn't leave Noctis. Tears brimmed in his eyes and he was about to cave in and agree to let Noctis into his room when the bedroom door opposite his opened.

'Gladio! Thank Etro,' he muttered under his breath. He tried to plaster a grin on, to pretend that his eyes weren't shining with tears of stress and exhaustion, but Gladiolus noticed. 'Where you heading, big guy?'

Gladiolus caught on immediately and was all warm smiles as he clapped a hand to Noctis's shoulder. 'Heading out to stretch my legs for a bit, actually. Noct, feel up to a walk?'

Noctis looked as unsure as it was possible to be, but Prompto smiled at him and that was enough to sway him. 'Okay.'

'Great!' Gladiolus said, with way too much enthusiasm. 'Prom, get some sleep, you look dead on your feet. We'll try not to have too much fun without you, right Noct?'

'Right,' Noctis said, though he looked a little dazed and confused as to what exactly he was agreeing to. Gladiolus was already shooing him back down the corridor, with a quick backward glance to Prompto and a wink.

_Thank you,_ Prompto mouthed, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on him; the relief of a few moments rest, the guilt of wanting to be rid of Noctis when all he wanted was to be near him.

Gladiolus just shook his head as if it were no big deal.

-

‘Lively around here today, huh?’ Gladiolus joked, smiling down at the prince.

Noctis watched as a pair of guards jogged down the corridor, pausing only to nod at them before hurrying on their way. A large hand squeezed his shoulder.

‘They’re your guards. They look after the palace and keep you safe.’

‘You’re my guard, though. Right?’

‘Right,’ Gladiolus said. ‘But you need more than one. I can’t be everywhere, Noct, you’re royalty. You need people to guard the gates, people to patrol the streets, people to stand outside your door.’

‘But I have you,’ Noctis said. ‘I know you. I like you. I don’t want anybody else.’

‘Flattering, but I don’t think we should dismiss these other guys just yet,’ Gladiolus said with a grin. ‘How are you doing, anyway? Your arms getting tired?’

Noctis glanced down at his wrists, encircled by the plastic braces of his crutches. They’d been walking for about fifteen minutes; Gladiolus had thought that the walk would help build Noctis’s strength, but the prince was looking exhausted and he wondered if it wouldn't be better to get him back to his bedroom.

‘I'm alright,’ Noctis said distantly.

‘Which means something’s wrong,’ Gladiolus said with a sigh. ‘You know, I kind of miss the guy that would whine and complain when he got an injury during sparring. At least then I’d know when you were hurting.’ The big man lifted a hand to cup Noctis’s cheek.

‘I’ll be okay.’

‘The hell you will,’ Gladiolus said. It was way too easy to lift Noctis; the prince was like a child, thin and frail in his arms as he gathered him up and carried him over to sit on a low window seat. He rolled up the long sleeves of Noctis’s sweater and swore as he revealed white bandages spotted with blood. The slashes across Noctis’s wrists had opened up from being rubbed against the crutches.

Noctis stared in fascination.

‘Iggy is way better at this than me,’ Gladiolus muttered. He unwrapped the bandages on one of Noctis’s arms, and gently checked the wounds. Though they were open, the bleeding had stopped and there was just straw coloured plasma dampening the slices. 'Think they're okay. But you're gonna have to take it easy with those crutches. I think I've kept you out too long.'

'It doesn't matter,' Noctis said.

Gladiolus sighed and slid his hands from Noctis's wrists to his hips. 'Noct, you've got to start taking care of yourself. You know that, right? We'll always be here for you, but if you're in pain or you don't feel well _you_ need to do something about it. Your arms must have been hurting right?'

Noctis shrugged. 'A bit.'

'So next time that happens tell me and we'll take a break. I'm not you, I don't know what you're feeling or what's going on inside that head of yours. Help me help you, yeah?'

Noctis just nodded. Prompto always knew what he was feeling without him having to say it. But he didn't tell Gladiolus that, instead he watched as the older man pulled his sleeves back down.

More guards thundered past behind them. 'You ever get the feeling like you're missing out on something?' Gladiolus asked.

Noctis just shrugged. 'Are they guards too?'

'Yeah, and they're supposed to stay at their stations unless something has happened. Which means that something has happened. Stay here, I'll be right back.'

Gladiolus gently patted Noctis's knee then pushed himself to his feet and jogged off down the corridor hoping to find someone. It took longer than he would have liked; as a guard himself he knew where all of the posts were, but everyone seemed to have vacated their allotted places. Which was bad; the whole point of the guards was to ensure that key areas were kept safe. While they had high profile prisoners it was especially important for everyone to stay sharp and remain vigilant. And man their allotted post.

When Gladiolus almost ran into a guard running the opposite direction, he barred his way with a huge arm. 'What's the rush?' Gladiolus asked.

'You haven't heard?' The man's watery grey eyes almost popped as he spoke. 'The prisoner has escaped!'

The colour drained from Gladiolus's face as he imagined Idola running free. Or even Aurora, she was more vicious and unpredictable. Suddenly he felt sick for leaving Noctis alone and unprotected, and itched to get back to him. But he needed more information first. 'Idola? Is Idola free?'

'No, not Idola,' the man said, shaking his head violently. 'Asta.'

'Asta?' Gladiolus asked, slightly taken aback. The red haired man popped into his mind and he relaxed. 'Asta's meant to be out of his cell. He's helping the scientists figure out if there's a way to reverse the slave crown's effects.'

'Yes yes, I know. But he said he needed to use the bathroom and he hasn't been seen since.'

Gladiolus raised an eyebrow.

'That was nearly an hour ago,' the guard clarified. 'We're searching for him now, he can't have gone far. You must protect the prince, we've already dispatched more men to the dungeons to ensure he doesn't free Idola and the woman. More guards are protecting the king and Lady Lunafreya.'

Gladiolus nodded and allowed the guard to go but wasn't convinced. True he didn't know much about the weird redhead, but he didn't seem so loyal as to attempt to spring Idola from his cell. Still, he hurried back to Noctis and was only really happy once the dark haired prince was within his sight. Asta hadn't tried to murder him or anything. And more importantly Noctis hadn't wandered off; chances were he'd get lost.

'Hey little guy. Feeling up to another walk?'

Noctis looked up at him and nodded. 'Sure.'

Getting Noctis to his feet was easy; all Gladiolus had to do was grab him either under his arms or by his waist and haul him to his feet, but when he reached out Noctis waved him off. Slowly, painfully, Noctis pushed himself up from the window seat. He toppled a little and Gladiolus hovered, ready to catch him if he fell but there was no need. Noctis used the wall for balance and fumbled about arranging his crutches until he was standing upright. Pale and shaky from the effort, but he had done it on his own.

'Nicely done, Highness,' Gladiolus said, not even trying to push back the swell of pride in his chest. Okay, this wasn't the Noctis he had met as a young boy. The prince that had been forever trying to catch frogs and bring them inside the palace as pets, and had drawn a felt tip moustache on an expensive commissioned oil painting of his father. But the basics were still there; he was stubborn, determined. It was starting to shine through. The things that made Noctis _Noctis_ were still there, he was just a slightly different person.

For a while they made their slow way down the corridor. The palace was silent today, large windows cut into the walls spilled sunlight onto the carpet in front of them. Now that he knew Noctis's wrists were hurting Gladiolus fully intended to take the prince back to his room before Ignis found out and lynched him for keeping Noctis up. There was a shortcut through a courtyard, and though the air outside was cold they would be okay for a few moments, so long as Noctis wasn't too slow. The weather was supposed to stay nice this morning, but by afternoon they were predicted icy winds with the possibility of rain or snow. Gladiolus was considering something to say, perhaps with regards to the weather, when Noctis did something he hadn't been expected; he spoke without being prompted.

'Did you find out?'

'Find out what?' Gladiolus asked, confused.

'What the fuss was?' Noctis asked.

'Oh. Oh, yeah. Nothing to worry about,' Gladiolus said with a grin. Though another reason for getting Noctis back to his bedroom was just in case Asta decided to seek Noctis out. It was hard to tell with that guy.

Noctis slipped back into silence, but the fact that he'd spoken at all without being questioned was a start. Gladiolus stepped ahead and opened the door to the courtyard for Noctis since the prince was on crutches. The cold blast of air made him reconsider the shortcut, but Noctis was already hobbling out and didn't seem affected by the cold. Then again, would he say even if he was in discomfort? Gladiolus had no idea; Noctis didn't even seem to realise himself sometimes if there was pain or cold or hunger. That was half the reason he was still scarily thin; his body just didn't understand the need for food.

'Hello. Nice day for a stroll,' said a horribly familiar voice.

Gladiolus spun around and saw the figure sat on one of the benches, long legs lazily splayed out in front of him, doves pecking at the cobblestones by his feet. Immediately Gladiolus rushed in front of Noctis to block him from view and spread a hand out to signal Noctis to stop and stay behind him.

'What are you doing here, Asta?' Gladiolus asked, wishing he had a sword. With Noctis's brain scrambled they were unable to use his connection to the crystal to summon weapons.

But Asta didn't look like he was about to attack. His bright golden eyes were squinting up at the sun and he had a little paper bag in his lap from which he drew out a square of chocolate brownie. First he broke a corner of the cake off, then he crumbled it between his slender fingers and tossed it to the ground. The doves went crazy, abandoning the specks of cake they had already been pecking after to go for the fresh food.

'Asta?' Gladiolus asked again.

'I am sitting. What does it look like, son of Amicitia?'

'You're supposed to be sitting in a lab, telling our guys how to fix our prince.'

'It was too stuffy inside, I needed some air,' Asta said, then bit into the brownie. 'And cake. Everybody needs cake. To think, your palace kitchens are chock full of delicious baked goodies and nobody thought to offer me one. How rude.'

'So you escaped to get cake?' Gladiolus asked, trying to find the connection and failing.

'Yes. It's very good cake, have you tried it? If politics doesn't suit Lady Lunafreya she could start her own patisserie television show. I'd watch it.'

'You really need to be back inside,' Gladiolus said, relaxing slightly as Asta wasn't making any move to attack. 'Half the palace guard is searching for you.'

'Only half? Disappointing. Am I not threatening enough? Do be honest, I hate it when people lie to make you feel better.'

'Do you have doughnuts?' Noctis asked from behind Gladiolus.

'Highness, stay behind me,' Gladiolus said quickly.

He'd half hoped that Asta either hadn't noticed Noctis at all or wasn't bothered enough to pay him attention. However as soon as the prince spoke Asta's cat-like gaze travelled past Gladiolus to Noctis and a smile spread on his lips.

'I'm afraid not, kitten. Are you partial to them?'

'No,' Noctis said simply. 'Prom is.'

'Ah, the bundle of sunshine,' Asta said. 'Rumours abound in the palace. It seems his happiness is your happiness these days. You stick together like glue.'

Noctis shifted uncomfortably. 'He likes the doughnuts with chocolate in,' was the only explanation Noctis gave.

'And you live to make him happy?' Asta asked sharply. 'You know that's not true. You have your own life and your own purpose, kitten. If you never remember anything, remember that.'

'I remember things,' Noctis said. 'My name is Noctis Lucis Caelum-'

'Yes very nice, you can recite scripted cards,' Asta said with a roll of his eyes. He searched through his bag for a pastry. 'Monkeys can be trained to do something if you show them enough times. Parrots can mimic something they hear. You are neither a monkey nor a parrot.'

Noctis didn't seem to know how to respond to that so he didn't say anything. Gladiolus decided it was time to intervene. 'Asta, you need to come inside. You need to be working on that slave crown.'

'Slave crown, slave crown,' Asta sang. 'I am sick to death of hearing about it. You think there's some magical cure for brain damage. You're all pinning your hopes on men in white coats, too scared to face the truth. Just because he's different doesn't mean he's not the boy you lost. You're just not seeing him. You're trying to make him into something he's not, fitting a round peg into a square hole.'

Gladiolus raked a hand through his hair. 'Do you always have to speak in riddles?'

'You think you lost him, but he's right there,' Asta waved a hand, spraying crumbs that the doves scrambled after like a starved herd of beasts. 'There's no magic answer. No potion, no elixir that will make him go back to how he was. This _is_ Noctis. So why can't you just accept him and love him rather than trying to say he's not good enough how he is?'

Gladiolus stared at Asta for a long moment with his mouth hanging open then snapped it shut. And looked at Noctis, who had gone very pale and was staring at his feet. He took the boy, no _prince_ , in; from the familiar hair and eyes, to the unfamiliar skeletal frame and slightly bent leg from where it had been damaged by the bullet. The old and the new meshed together.

When Noctis finally looked up, it wasn't at Gladiolus but at Asta.

Asta looked the prince right in the eye and his face sharpened into something serious. 'Don't let them kill you just because they miss your shadow. You have as much right to exist as the other Noctis.'

And suddenly everything made sense to Gladiolus and he realised with a crashing blow how horribly they had treated this Noctis. Ever since they had got him back all they'd wanted was to get rid of him. He felt sick and squeezed Noctis's shoulder gently, urging him onward.

But he didn't bother bringing Asta in. He let the other man enjoy his stolen cakes in peace.

-

He was somewhere dark, that was all he knew. The darkness was suffocating around him, the cold seeped through his clothes down to make his bones ache. In the distance was a steady dripping and every so often the rattle of what sounded like chains.

'Hello?' Prompto called out but his voice echoed all around him, rippling out like a wave.

There was no reply.

With no other option Prompto shuffled forward with his arms outstretched, groping blindly in the darkness. For what felt like hours he continued, yelling out as he wandered alone and cold.

Suddenly light flooded his vision and he had to close his eyes against the harshness of it. When he was finally able to stand the light he blinked open his eyes and found a spotlight trained on him. A splotch of light in the darkness. But now he wasn't alone; there was a bed before him, hovering in mid air with a ratty, thin mattress and an even thinner man laying atop them.

'Noct!' Prompto wanted to reach out for the prince but his arms were bound to his sides. Chains slid around him, pinning his arms to his sides. The harder he fought against them the tighter they wrapped around him. The cold metal links bit into his skin and warm, sticky blood ran down his bare arms.

'What's the matter?' Asked a snake-like, oily voice.

It made Prompto shudder just to hear his grandfather speak, but he felt the urge to vomit when a cold hand rested on his shoulder. The smoky scent of gunpowder mixed with the metallic tang of blood filled his nostrils; the stench he associated with Niflheim. Bile rose in his throat.

'Look at him,' Idola ordered sharply.

When he refused a hand grabbed his hair and yanked his head up so that he had no choice but to face Noctis. Again he tried to break free of his chains but they just cut deeper into his flesh. He would have fallen to his knees had Idola not been gripping his hair so tightly.

'Why are you doing this?' Prompto asked, tears stinging his eyes. All he could see was Noctis, bathed in the white floodlight making him look paler and more washed out than ever. His skin was paper white and his hair inky black; the only colour on him at all was the gold of the crown nestled in his hair.

'To make Niflheim great. To make Lucis bow. To take their power for myself,' Idola said. 'To hold the crystal is to have all the power of the world, and you, you fool, you were able to use it without even understanding what it meant. You could have been great. Together we could have ruled this world; you, me and Dante. Niflheim's two princes.'

'I would never,' Prompto said, wincing as Idola pulled his hair again. 'Never be a prince of Niflheim.'

A dark chuckle erupted in his hair. Idola was so close he could feel the stagnant heat of the old man's breath on his neck as he leaned close to his ear.

'Oh, my boy, Niflheim blood runs through your veins. Why do you think you just watched him die? You didn't actually think you helped, did you? All you did was sit beside him and hold his hand and _watched him die._ '

'No!' Prompto said furiously, trying to pull away but his body was like lead. All he could do was stand there and watch as Noctis's body began to dissolve into tiny grains of sand that swept away with a breath of wind. All that was left was the golden slave crown sitting atop the dirty pillow.

'Face it. You're Niflheim through and through. You can't change your blood, Prompto,' Idola whispered, then he was gone. The chains were gone. The light was gone.

And Prompto sat up screaming.

Colour flooded his vision muted by the dimness of his bedroom. The scent of fire and death began to fade away to be replaced by the more familiar, comforting scents of vanilla spice and coffee. The coffee could only come from one source so even though he hadn't noticed him right away Prompto wasn't surprised when someone reached out for him.

'Iggy…' he breathed, his breath still coming out in little breathless pants as his pulse raced a mile a minute.

'It's alright,' Ignis's smooth voice washed over him, and now free from the nightmare he knew it was alright. Of course it was alright. Idola was locked up and Noctis was safe. In body. Not in mind.

The bed dipped as Ignis sat beside him. He was detangled from his covers and then surprisingly strong arms pulled him into Ignis's lap and he was cradled like a child while fingers played with his hair. For a moment he was content to be like that as he rode out the shock of the nightmare in Ignis's arms, resting his head against his friend's shoulder and just letting himself be held. It did wonders to chase away the lingering anxiety that the dream had brought on.

'Idola killed Noctis,' Prompto said finally, a sob catching in his throat as he finally let himself say the words. His fingers clutched at Ignis's shirt, bunching the material up in his fist as anger rose.

'His Highness is far from dead,' Ignis said softly. 'All things considered he has made a miraculous recovery.'

'This is recovered?' Prompto asked, pulling away slightly so that he could look Ignis in the eye. 'He looks half dead, Iggy. His leg is all screwed up, he has trouble remembering his own name and every time he sees me he acts like a kid who needs his parent.'

Ignis took a deep breath. 'Lingering effects-'

'How long? When will he remember things? When will he remember how we used to sneak out of the palace and steal motorbikes from the fleet and go joyriding at night? When will he remember the time we cut class and took a train to Solheim for the day, only we got the wrong one and ended up in some backwater town and had to phone Cor to come and get us? When will he remember-'

'He won't,' Ignis said sharply, then seemed to remember himself. 'Prompto, we may have to accept that he won't ever remember those things. But we remember them for him, and we can tell him about them and build new memories with him.'

'I don't want new memories. I want my best friend back,' Prompto said, and that was the magical key that opened the floodgates. Weeks, months of fear and frustration came tumbling out and suddenly he was a sobbing mess in Ignis's arms. 'Iggy you might be able to build memories with him but when he's with me he's a completely different person. I'm destroying him. When he's with me he takes steps backward. I want so badly to be there for him and help him, but I'm just making him worse.'

Ignis moved his hand to gently rub circles on Prompto's back and rocked him back and forth. The shoulder of his shirt was soaked through with tears and they gathered in Ignis's eyes too. 'I can only assume that while he had the slave crown on he could hear you. Perhaps through that darkness and confusion he associated your voice with safety. Now that he's awake and without his memories it must be terrifying, so he wants to keep you close and use your strength.'

'But that's not healthy, right?' Prompto asked, sniffing loudly. 'I mean, I tried to be there for him, but I think it's done more harm than good. I'm holding him back, and I can't…I want to…'

'You can't keep doing it,' Ignis said. 'You're tired, you're stressed, and you're going to snap if you don't take a step back.'

A laugh bubbled at Prompto's lips and his cheek nuzzled against Ignis's shoulder. 'Sounds great, man. The world is going to hell and Prompto Argentum is taking some down time.'

'Prom, I'm serious. You worry me. Not the prince; _you_ worry me right now.'

'I worry me too.' Prompto swallowed hard, and slid his arms around Ignis so that he was closer to the other man. He felt suddenly cold, as if a chill had taken over his body, and he wanted to soak up the warmth from his friend.

They stayed like that in each other's embrace for a little longer before Ignis decided it was time for Prompto to be up. He threw on a pair of skinny jeans and a jacket since he was still cold and let himself be led down to the ground floor.

'I'm not sure where His Majesty will be, wait here and I'll be right back,' Ignis said.

'Kay,' Prompto said, wandering over to take a look at one of the ugly statues that littered the place. The kind of fancy crap that the uber-rich had just to impress people. Once upon a time Prompto might have felt intimidated by it all but now it was just part of his life. This was his home, no matter what dream-Idola had said. Anger flooded his veins again at the thought of the old man, so when he heard Idola's name he snapped around fast enough to nearly break his neck.

'Still barking orders from his cell,' a guard was saying as a pair crossed the grand entrance of the palace. They had just come up from the dungeons; must have been a shift change.

'Hah, as if King Regis will talk to him. Is he still trying to bribe people to free him?'

'You know it,' the guard said, and then they were out of ear shot.

Fury boiled within Prompto, and before he knew it his feet were taking him toward the dungeons. Usually Lucis didn't house many prisoners but now the cells were packed with Niflheim soldiers captured after the failed attack. A lot of them were going home in stages, but processing them was taking a long time since Lucis had been weakened from the initial attack and other things had taken priority such as rehoming Lucian citizens, funerals for those that lost their lives, rebuilding homes and communities and the not so small matter of flying the crystal back to its rightful home. Even though his connection was lost due to Noctis's mind not being as it should be, Prompto could feel a sort of warm hum of energy in the air now that the crystal was back. It made him feel safer knowing it was there.

As he walked past doors Niflheim soldiers called to him from their cells. Prompto ignored them all and strode down the long corridor to the end, where the more dangerous prisoners were kept. Two doors were firmly closed and he ignored the one on the left; Aurora could rot for all he cared. It was the centre door he was interested in.

'I've been sent to talk to Idola,' Prompto lied.

The two guards looked at each other, then back at him. 'You have?'

'Yep,' Prompto said. He'd long since learned that if you acted like you were supposed to be somewhere people tended to believe you. 'We've got a few more questions about the slave crown. We’ve let him stew for a bit, so I've been sent to see if he's ready to talk.'

They gave him a once over, as if to ask why the king of Lucis would send a scrawny boy to interrogate a high profile prisoner, but they knew who he was. And neither guard was about to refuse the best friend of their prince.

One of the guards pressed a palm to the reader by the door and entered a code. A metal lock clicked open and the hydraulics hissed as the seal of the door broke.

'Five minutes,' the guards said.

'That's all I need,' Prompto said darkly and pushed the door open. He made sure to close it behind him.

'I asked for a cup of tea over an hour ago,' Idola's voice called from the shadows.

'You'll have to wait a little longer,' Prompto said.

Idola's head snapped up; he had been sat on his bed reading a book, which dropped from his fingers when he recognised Prompto. Emotions flashed in his face; relief, suspicion, and finally settled on confusion.

'Why are you here? Are you going to break me out?' Idola asked, his voice hitching with a sneer. Even now, locked up, probably due to be executed, he was still a pompous ass.

'No,' Prompto said simply. In truth he wasn't really sure why he had come down here. His head tipped to the side as he observed the old man; his father's father. He had very few memories of Idola and all of them were dark and cold. There were no happy memories associated with his biological family; his happy memories only came from his true family. The one that had taken him in and loved him.

'Then kindly leave,' Idola said, turning back to his book. 'I never know when someone is going to barge in and drag me to the gallows so I'd like to finish my book before I die.'

'I can't believe they let you have books. You didn't let Noct have books.'

A muscle in Idola's jaw twitched, and Prompto realised the old man was trying not to laugh. 'So this is what it's about? The Lucian prince?'

Prompto shifted his weight from foot to foot.

'I should have known. You're as weak willed as your father; you fall in love too easily,' Idola said.

'I'm not in love with him,' Prompto said.

'Of course you are. You're in love with all of them. Silly boy, you think the word "love" only applies to a couple? Love takes many forms and the bond you have with Prince Noctis is a strong kind of love. Tell me, how does it feel to love a marionette? Has he remembered how to tie his own shoe laces yet?'

So many emotions fought for dominance. The urge to run upstairs and find Noctis was strong; to hold him close and keep him safe, because yes, what he felt for his friend was definitely love. But the knowledge that this Noctis wasn't the one he had always loved brought him back to earth with a crash. His best friend was gone and the man who had taken him was sat on a bed sneering and teasing with no remorse at all.

Prompto had no idea how he moved so fast, and he must have taken Idola by surprise too because the man didn't have time to even raise his hands to defend himself from the punch that cracked his nose and threw him off the bed and to the floor.

He was breathing hard as he stared down at his fist, as if wondering how it had happened. Idola was crying out in pain and dark crimson blood dribbled between his fingers where he pressed a hand to his nose.

'Insolent little worm,' Idola spat.

It was like watching from the sidelines as somebody else controlled his body. He wondered if this was how Noctis had felt under the influence of the slave crown; to inhabit your body but for it to act of its own will. His foot kicked out, catching Idola in the ribs and sending him rolling until he hit the wall of the cell. Then he stomped forward, grabbing the front of Idola's shirt and pulling him up roughly before slamming his fist again into Idola's face. A pink welt blossomed under Idola's eye, on his jaw, then again at the nose.

By now blood was slick on Prompto's knuckles so he grabbed Idola and with a strength he didn't know he possessed he drew Idola toward himself, then slammed him back against the brick wall. Again and again, until Idola's eyes rolled back in his head. Even still he prepared to smash his head against the wall again, to crack it open like an egg-

Arms grabbed him and pulled him back. The red haze that had fallen like a curtain over his vision began to lift, his breathing came out in short gasps. And the sight of Idola, an unconscious and bloodied heap on the floor, gave him a strange sickening pleasure.

'Prompto, calm the hell down.'

Ignis's voice was commanding, but more than anything the mild swear word was what got through to Prompto; Ignis _never_ swore. It was then that he noticed they weren't alone; King Regis was looking neat and prim in his pinstripe suit and staring down at Idola with detached disinterest. Though when he glanced up at Prompto there was a small smile on his lips. The two guards hovered unnecessarily by the door.

'I see now what you mean,' King Regis said. 'Ignis, could you please bring him up to my office. I'll be with you shortly after I've cleaned up this mess.'

'Of course, Your Majesty.'

The arms around him gripped his arm tightly and pulled him out of the room. The guards stepped back and gave him a wide berth as if he were some wild animal. With his knuckles scraped and raw, and blood splattered down his front, he _felt_ like a wild animal.

He was ushered through the palace quickly and before he realised it he was sat at the king's desk, alone. His hands were trembling and when he looked down at the pale skin he couldn't tell whose blood stained his hands. But then, it was the same blood, wasn't it? Aldercapt blood, grandfather and grandson mixed together.

Ignis returned and knelt in front of him, taking his hands gently and dabbing at the scraped knuckles with a damp cloth.

'They're not deep,' Ignis muttered as he worked, 'but would you care for a potion?'

'No,' Prompto muttered. He kind of liked the sting of pain; it was helping to calm him down and clear his head.

Warm hands ran up and down his arms so that Prompto looked up and noticed Ignis was watching him.

'I was worried about you before, now frankly I'm terrified. Prompto, what was that?'

Prompto took a shaky breath and looked away, unable to meet the concerned emerald gaze. 'I don't know. I just…I don't know, Ignis. I felt angry, then I was in his cell and I just…I don't know.'

'Bottling things up rarely helps,' King Regis said as he entered the room. The soft click of the door shutting behind him was the only other sound until the older man took a seat across the desk and took in the two young men. 'Ignis had just come to see me regarding a break for you.'

'Yeah and what would I do? I can't be here and know Noct is here and not see him. But it's not the right thing for either of us right now I don't think,' Prompto said sadly.

'I agree,' King Regis said. 'Which is why I suggest that you take yourself off to Solheim. I hear it's nice this time of the year. Well, it's nice any time of the year really. Take Gladiolus with you, use the royal villa on the coast. Unwind, soak up some sun, and come back refreshed. It will do both you and Noctis the world of good to spend some time apart and heal, then when you reconnect things will be better.'

Prompto's mouth opened then closed. He wanted to protest that he didn't need something as grand as that, but it solved all his problems. By physically not being close to Noctis he wouldn't have to worry that he was hurting him by taking away his independence. And if Noctis wasn't there perhaps he could unwind without having to feel as if he needed to constantly protect Noctis.

'I think I'd like that,' Prompto whispered, feeling guilty for doing so. But dammit he was tired. He was stressed, he was hurting in so many ways. Lucis was healing, he wasn't needed here right now. He had earned a break, right?

As if sensing his thoughts Ignis squeezed his hand gently.

Prompto offered him a smile; a genuine smile. 'I'll go.'

'Good,' Ignis said. 'And Gladiolus will be reporting back. If you're not completely relaxed by the second day I will personally be dispatched to ensure that you do.'

His smile widened and he squeezed Ignis's hand back. 'Thank you. Both of you.'

King Regis nodded. 'You've healed Noctis, you brought him back and helped him through the worst. It's time for you to heal, Prompto. Also I fear that you might kill Idola before we have a chance to hang him.'

Prompto laughed a little but the murderous rage was fading. As was the trembling of his hands. Maybe this really was a good idea after all.

-

He needed to pack. He needed to buy suncream. He needed to do so many things, but first of all he needed to tell Noctis. There was a spring in his steps as he took the stairs two at a time and then paused outside his best friend's bedroom door. It was closed but that didn't mean he was sleeping. Although with Noctis he slept more than he was awake - or at least he had before the slave crown.

Prompto knocked anyway out of courtesy and waited for an answer but none was forthcoming. Instead he pushed the door open and walked right in. And almost had a heart attack. He leaped forward and caught Noctis, dragging him back to the bed to sit him down.

'Noct, what are you doing?' Prompto demanded.

Noctis looked a little surprised at first, then he realised who it was and his lips quirked into a smile. 'Walking,' Noctis said.

'You need to use the crutches,' Prompto reminded him. 'Did you forget? Have you lost them?' he glanced about searching for them but they were leaning next to the bed within plain sight.

'I didn't forget, I just wanted to try without them,' Noctis said. 'It hurt a bit and I limp but it's not so bad.'

'Well, maybe let the healers decide that, yeah? They gave you those things for a reason, you could do more damage to your leg if you don't let it heal properly,' Prompto said.

'Sorry,' Noctis said, and it was as if the life drained from him. He crumpled in on himself and his smile faded. 'You're right. I won't.'

Ice gripped his heart and he realised that Noctis was again doing exactly what he was saying. If he'd stopped to analyse the situation he would have realised that Noctis walking on his own was an act of stubbornness that the old Noctis would have displayed, but now guilt ate away at him and all he could think of was how much better it would be for Noctis if he was gone.

'Hey, Noct?'

'Mmm?' Noctis asked, but he wasn't enthusiastic anymore. He looked numb.

Prompto reached out for his hand. 'Got some news.'

Noctis didn't answer, just waited for Prompto to give it like he knew he would.

Sigh. Deep breath. 'I'm…I'm going away for a bit. Just a week or two. To Solheim. How cool is that? I'll take loads of pictures, bring you back some dorky gifts. So uh, yeah, it's not for long. I already said that didn't I? But you'll have Iggy here with you, and you need to rest up and practice walking anyway-'

'You're leaving?' Noctis asked. His eyes were huge; dark and hollow, with bruise like rings under them from lack of sleep. He'd never looked so young.

'Just for a bit,' Prompto said, trying to keep his voice steady. Now was not the time to have second thoughts. 'You'll be fine, when I get back we'll catch up and play video games, and maybe by then the healers will have let you ditch your crutches and we can go for a walk or something? I'll take you out, catch a movie just like old times-'

'You're leaving?' Noctis repeated, stuck like a broken record on that singular fact.

'I'll be back before you can miss me,' Prompto said.

'You're leaving me…' Noctis said, and Prompto could sense a panic attack when he saw one. He reached out but Noctis slapped him away. 'No. Don't touch me. You…you said you'd always be here for me.'

'Noct, I _am_ always here for you,' Prompto said, his voice strained. 'But I just need a break. I just want to get away-'

'You need a break from me?' Noctis asked.

Dammit, why did he pick up on the little, stupid things Prompto said?

'No, Noct it's not like that-'

'You said you'd keep me safe and sound. I remember you singing,' Noctis said softly, as if remembering some long forgotten dream.

'You remember that?' Prompto asked. It had been in Niflheim, when he'd first found Noctis and realised there was nothing he could do other than offer comfort. He hadn't really expected Noctis to hear and definitely not to remember.

'I remember. But you were lying. You're leaving.'

'I'm coming back-'

'You're leaving me.' Noctis rose to his feet, grabbed his crutches and took a few unsteady steps, then a few more toward his bedroom door. 'I always knew I'd be alone. But I thought I'd be alone with you. You were always there when I had nothing else.'

Hot tears pricked his eyes. 'Noct…'

But the prince was gone. And his heart felt as if it were breaking in two. Idola was right; he was in love with Noctis. Not the kiss when Cor isn't looking, going to marry you one day kind of love, but a love just as strong. And he'd gone and ruined it. Somehow it had all gotten ruined, and he'd hurt Noctis right when the prince needed him most.

He just couldn't win.

The tears came, he crumpled to the floor and hugged his nears and sobbed as hard as he could, hoping it would cleanse himself and make him feel better.

Rain battered the windows, the wind howled in the trees along with him, and nothing would ever be right again.

Especially when Gladiolus found him several hours later when the sky had turned dark, still crying softly to himself, to tell him that Noctis was officially missing.


	14. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dark and the snow Noctis's friends form a search party to find their missing prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a long time coming and I'm really sorry. ;__; I actually wrote this in December last year but then my nan died and I haven't wanted to look at it, as I was writing it just before she died and it made me think of her. So it's been sat on my computer for months and that's stupid so I should just publish it, right? XD I gave it a quick edit but I'm still not feeling like reading it thoroughly so I apologise if its choppy. I just wanted to get it out as I know it's been a stupidly long time since I updated and I'm really sorry to the amazing people that are following this. Thank you for sticking with me. ♥
> 
> Also I took so long that Asta has been given an official name! For the sake of continuity (and because Asta is probably nothing like canon Ardyn Izunia) I'll keep his name as Asta.

'How did he escape? He's hardly the most mobile of people, and the guards should know better than to let him leave the palace unattended,' King Regis screamed. He was trying his hardest to keep his voice under check but ever since learning that his son had managed to evade every line of defence in the palace he had found it hard to keep his temper in check. Part of it was guilt; he hadn't noticed Noctis was missing either, not until well into the evening. Everybody had assumed that he was with someone else and with Prompto missing too it had seemed logical the two friends were together. Until Gladiolus had found the blonde in Noctis's room on the floor sobbing his heart out.

Ignis, ever prepared, was zipping up his leather jacket and checking his phone had charge. 'The fact remains that he is missing which is what we should concentrate on now rather than how. The guards have swept every inch of the palace and are confident he's not here. That means he's outside somewhere probably lost and confused.'

There was a dark pause as everyone turned to the window. The light rainfall that had begun early that afternoon had turned to torrential rain, hardening to sleet as the temperature dropped when the sun went down.

'We really think he's out there in that?' Gladiolus asked uncertainly. Even he had assented to wearing a coat against the winter chill as he prepared to go searching.

'It's most likely,' Ignis said. 'The palace guards will continue searching inside, the Lucian city guards are already searching the streets. Wherever he is we'll find him and bring him home.'

Prompto was the only silent one. He had backed himself up against the window and was watching the silvery sleet turn to snow as the temperature fell even further. The flakes landed on the grass outside and stuck to the blades, clumping together to form a light dusting. He didn't want to voice his own fears; that Noctis didn't want to be found. Did Noctis remember their argument? Was he hiding on purpose, or had he fled in upset and now gotten himself lost in the unfamiliar streets?

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and broke him from his thoughts.

'You sure you wanna come?' A low voice murmured into his ear.

Prompto lifted his hand to squeeze Gladiolus's and watched their reflection in the glass. Gladiolus towered over a head taller than him and was nearly twice as wide. But the big man could be so gentle and considerate when needed that it almost broke Prompto's heart. In truth he was still hurting himself, though that had numbed when he'd found out Noctis was missing. All he wanted was Noctis back, no matter what memories he had or how clingy he was. He didn't care. He'd take anything at this point just to know that his friend was safe.

'I don't want to but I need to,' Prompto said, his hand going to his mouth. Teeth worried the skin around his nail, a sharp pain that grounded him and calmed him a little in the way that the pills once had.

'We'll be with you,' Gladiolus said. His voice was a strong reassuring rumble that soothed Prompto even more than the hand at his shoulder.

'I'll search myself, too,' King Regis said, surprising them all.

'Your Majesty-'

'Cor, this is my _son_ we're talking about,' the king said cally but with a dark underlying tone that left no room for argument. 'I almost lost him to Idola, I'm not losing him within my own city walls.'

The guard let out a resigned sigh and bowed his head. 'Then I will accompany you.'

'I had hoped you would,' Regis's lips quirked into a smile.

-

'You bake,' Asta said.

'And you are not where you're supposed to be,' Luna said, tossing the damp tea towel across the back of a chair. She had washed down all the surfaces in the kitchen after her latest baking efforts; everything was perfectly clean and shiny for the chefs to prepare breakfast in the morning. She was now debating between Altissan berry tea or good old fashioned Tenebrae breakfast tea with milk and sugar to go with the cookies she had made. Looking out the window at the snow falling lazily in thick flakes she pondered hot chocolate. It seemed fitting for such a wintery night.

Asta hefted himself up onto the counter top she had just cleaned and snagged a cookie from the plate she had set out. 'And where, good lady, _should_ I be?' He spoke with his mouth full.

'I'm not sure, but I'm certain that it's not here. And those are mine by the way.'

'I was locked up for weeks, prison food is awful. You can't begrudge a man cookies can you?'

She slid the plate out of his reach.

'Ouch. Ice queen.'

'Where are you supposed to be?' Luna asked quietly. 'I know who you are. I know what you've done.'

'Then you also know I've been trying to help the little prince. Does that earn me another cookie?'

'You were also there when they were putting the wretched slave crown on his head,' Luna fumed. 'So no. You don't get a damn cookie.'

'Am I sensing the sparks of young love between the two of you?'

'Once, perhaps,' her clear blue gaze flickered away briefly, as if looking back at a memory from her distant past. 'We were going to marry. Then it became no longer politically convenient, so we were told that our engagement was off. We see each other from time to time at parties and political events but there's no romance anymore. He's a good friend and I care about him.'

'So you friendzoned him. You really are an ice queen, you know that?'

'Some bonds are stronger than marriage. I never wanted to marry him, and he never wanted to marry me. We liked it when we were friends as children, but we hated each other when we were forced into betrothal. It's much nicer just being friends. It works better for us that way.'

'You got another man on the go?' Asta asked, a single thick eyebrow raising into his hairline.

Luna scoffed, a sound most undignified. 'You're asking me about my romantic life? Are we going to paint each other's nails and braid our hair next?'

'My hair's long enough, and it could do with some styling. Did you know they never even offered me separate shampoo and conditioner while I was in the dungeons? I had to make do with combined two in one. It's simply barbaric the torture they stooped to. My hair will take months to recover from the neglect.'

'And Noctis will take years to recover from the neglect Niflheim showed to him,' Luna said bluntly. 'If you'll excuse me.'

'You're a lot like him, you know that?' Asta swung his legs back and forth as he watched Luna fill the kettle from the tap. 'You and the prince.'

She set the kettle on the stove and went about finding herself a china tea cup and saucer. 'Really?'

'Uhuh. You're stubborn and loyal. You need to be a bit more sarcastic then you'll be just right. Hell, you're even about the same height since the poor guy is, ah, vertically challenged shall we say.'

'Yes, we look so much alike,' Luna said bitterly. 'Apart from gender, hair colour, eye colour, and the fact that half my face has been melted off.' The tea bag hit the bottom of her cup with a thud.

A long silence stretched out between them.

'I wasn't going to mention that.'

'How very kind of you,' Luna said. 'I don't care much whether you do or don't. It's part of me now like my hands and my hair. I just thought that might be what you were referring to in some sarcastic way. As I'm clearly not good with sarcasm I thought perhaps I was missing it.'

'I wasn't being sarcastic. And I wasn't trying to insult you. Those were the traits I liked in Noctis before we took them away from him. We took away everything that made him _him_ and left him broken. It's a waste.'

Luna laughed, a choking bitter laugh as she stared long and hard at the kettle. 'A waste? The heir to the greatest kingdom in the world having his memories erased and his mind broken to pieces is more than a waste. He was a beautiful person. Rash, impulsive and stubborn some times, yes, but he was kind and loving-'

'And he still is kind and loving,' Asta said. 'And you're still a beautiful person too.'

'I don't need your validation on that. Beauty-'

'Is only skin deep? Yeah, got that. But somewhere in the back of your mind you're worried. You think you've gotten over the trauma of what happened and yet you've spent how long hiding away in Insomnia's castle? Hiding behind walls, in the kitchen even, so that nobody can see you. What are you waiting for? Why not return home?'

'My parents supported Idola,' Luna snapped. 'I can't forgive that.'

'Politically it was the right thing to do. Lucis was outgunned. You can't blame them for putting their people first. And I know you know that. You're making excuses. You don't want to go back because you're scared.'

Luna swallowed hard and turned her attention back to the kettle as it whistled. Angrily she grabbed it from the stove and set it on a tea towel. 'So you think I should go back to Tenebrae and forgive my parents for everything they did?'

'I think you should go back and talk to them. Find out their reasons and understand what motivated them. They risked a lot calling the attack off for you; if Lucis hadn't won then Niflheim would have come after Tenebrae next. Thousands of innocent people could have died because your parents loved you. And you repay that love by hiding from them and refusing to contact them.'

'How the hell do you know all this?' Luna asked, her voice hitching as tears stung her eyes.

'I hear things. You can learn a lot more by listening than speaking. That's my talent.'

Luna curled then uncurled her fist at her side. Before she knew it her fingers rose to the mottled, plastic-like skin on her face that began just beside her left eye and ran down her neck to the strap of her bra under her blouse. She wasn't ashamed or afraid. She just hadn't realised that she hadn't been ready to face it all.

'I need to go home,' she said softly, picturing her parents worrying about her, wondering if she was even still alive after all the fighting.

'You do. It's time,' Asta said. 'Now can I have a cookie?'

'No.'

'Not even if I tell you a secret? I heard the guards talking, told you I hear things.'

Luna smirked and poured hot water into her tea cup. 'Go on. If it's interesting I'll give you half a cookie.'

Asta smirked and waited until she had set the kettle down. Which was probably fortunate otherwise she might have suffered another burn from dropping it.

'The kitten is gone~'

-

He knew what snow was, of course, but he couldn't remember ever seeing it before. He reasoned that he must have since he was an adult now. But as hard as he tried he couldn't dredge up memories of snowball fights or sledging or building a snowman. Every time he tried it was like groping blindly into a dark, empty void.

His usual memories were starting to fade too. Things that he had been getting better at remembering (his name, his father, where his bedroom was in the palace) were starting to slip away too. He knew he had a father, but he couldn't remember what the man looked like. And why couldn't he remember his mother? Where was she?

And what was his name again? It sounded like Night but it wasn't that. He was sure it wasn't that. All he knew for sure was that it was cold.

'Looking a little lost there, sweetheart.'

He jumped and turned around; he hadn't noticed the lady leaning against the doorframe when he had walked past her. She was tall and thin, a dark shape against the warm light from the club behind her. A cigarette balanced between her fingers and spilled ash to the ground that was soon lost to the building snow.

'I'm fine,' he said defensively. Then he coughed; the cold was really getting to him. He wasn't wearing a jacket over his hoodie and the snow had long since dampened the fabric. His crutches were getting slippery in the snow and his leg ached to the bone.

The woman gave him an obvious once over. 'You don't look fine. Why don't you come inside and warm up?'

Before he could form words he was shaking his head. He may not know much, but he knew enough to recognise a bad idea when he saw one. 'I'm fine,' he repeated and turned away from the woman. He almost slipped on the snow, but he righted himself and hobbled back down the street.

His wet hair was in his eyes but his hands were in use for the crutches so he couldn't push it back. Shivers ran through his body as his clothing got wetter and the wind picked up. Another cough caught him off guard and feeling as weak as he did he almost toppled over. His wrists ached and his leg hurt and now his chest was joining the list. All he wanted was to sit down for a moment and try to remember where he was and where he was supposed to be.

For a few minutes longer he walked until he came across a small park with a little children's jungle gym and a bench beside it. The apparatus was covered in snow, as was the bench. Balancing on his good leg he brushed powdery snow from the bench with a pale, numb hand, then sat down. Relief washed through him at not having to be on his feet anymore. His crutches fell into the snow with a muted thud.

Once stationary he began to shiver more and wrapped his arms around himself to try and stave off the biting wind. It wasn't helping much. He tried to remember where he was supposed to be, but every time he did a flash of anger and hurt rippled through him. Though he had no idea what events those emotions were linked to it was clear that whatever he had come from his mind didn't want him to go back to. He just wished that he knew what it was so that he could try and make it better.

Out here in the darkness he'd never felt so alone. It all caught up with him at once and he wondered how far he was from home. If there was anyone waiting for him or looking for him. He couldn't remember if he had family or friends anymore and he definitely couldn't remember his name or where he lived. Did he live anywhere? Was he homeless? He had no idea and the panic that came with not knowing built up in his chest along with the cold. He coughed again; a long, racking cough that doubled him over from the effort.

And then he wasn't alone anymore. A dark shadow cast over the snow at his feet and when he straightened up a man was watching him curiously.

'You're…the prince, aren't you?'

His lips were blue from the cold but he managed to force words from his throat. 'Prince?'

'You look like him, anyway. Sort of. Look like you've been through the wringer.'

'I don't know,' he said, and bent his head again in an attempt to combat the ache in his chest.

'It _is_ you. You're wearing the royal Lucis ring,' the man said, grabbing his hand.

He jerked back, not liking being touched by a stranger. 'I don’t know where it came from.'

'So you stole it?' the man asked. 'I don't think so. They never let that thing out of their sight. It must be worth millions of gil.'

He looked down at the silver ring sliding loosely on his thin finger. There were no memories at all attached to the thick skull ring. In fact he hadn't even realised he'd been wearing it. 'I have no idea.'

'Well I do,' the man's tone had changed. 'If you don't think it's worth anything why not give it to me? Pretty sure I can find a use for all that money.'

'No.' Though he had no memory of owning the ring he wasn't about to give it up.

The man laughed. 'It was a rhetorical question. Give me the ring.'

His left hand went over his right, covering his knuckles and the ring from view. 'No. It's mine.' He said it with as much conviction as he could because the man seemed to think it was his. And if he was wearing it then surely it _was_ his?

Something flashed in the streetlight and suddenly the point of a knife was aimed at his face. The smile had slipped from the man's lips and a frown creased his brow. 'Give me the ring and nobody has to get hurt.'

'By nobody you mean me, right?' he asked.

'That's right, Noctis Lucis Caelum,' the man said.

Oh yes - that was his name. Hearing it out loud triggered a memory of voices speaking the same name to him. The shape of the words seemed familiar now. 'I'm Noctis,' he repeated slowly, letting it sink it.

The man sighed impatiently and waved the knife. 'Yes, you're Noctis. What are you _stupid?_ Or are you buying for time? Shit, have you got guards watching you? Of course you must have, they wouldn't let you out alone.' The man looked around nervously as if he was expecting to be jumped on at any moment.

Noctis used the distraction to his advantage. Perhaps locked in the dark recess of his mind there were some fighting tips, because it seemed instinctual to launch himself forward and grab the man's knife arm. Despite his fairly insignificant weight he had the element of surprise and was able to push the man's elbow back on itself which trapped a nerve and caused the man to drop the knife.

'You little shit,' the man said, bending to scoop up his knife again.

Noctis acted fast to bring his knee up and ram it into the man's chest as he went down. The man gasped in pain and Noctis used every ounce of strength he had to shove the man into the snow. They tumbled together in a tangle of limbs, and suddenly Noctis found himself straddled and pressed against the cold hard snow. His leg throbbed where the man was leaning against it, but what worried him most was the knife edge at his throat.

'I'll cut your damn finger off if I have to,' the man growled, shifting the knife into his left hand as he fought to pin Noctis with his weight and wrestle Noctis's arm free from his side.

Noctis struggled and writhed beneath the oppressive weight on top of him, crushing his lungs. It was already hard to breath from the cold in his chest, and now with panic running through him his breathing came out in short gasps. He tried to pull his hand back but the man's hand was strong. The sting of the knife caught his cheek as the man tried to prise the ring off. Noctis saw his opportunity and slipped his hand free; quickly, before the man could grab his wrist again, he dragged his nails down the man's face. He aimed for an eye but caught just below and felt skin tear beneath his nails. Warm liquid spread over his finger tips as the man's hiss of pain cut through the night.

'Did you just scratch me?'

The man grabbed a fistful of Noctis's hair and lifted his head away from the snow. For a second Noctis saw his future clear as day before him; he knew exactly what was going to happen. The explosion of pain in the back of his skull was nothing like what he imagined, though, it was a hundred times worse. A brief moment of panic made him think his skull had split open like a watermelon, then thick warm liquid spread under his head and down the back of his neck and shirt. He lay perfectly still after that, unable to move. His unfocused gaze stared up at the silver crescent of moon in the sky above him. He saw stars, a million points of light that were perfectly placed. Something tugged at his memory; a few of the stars began to form a shape and his lips mouthed the word: Lyra. He'd seen it before. He'd sat out in the palace courtyard with a telescope and Ignis teaching him the names. He remembered.

'Lyra? The hell are you on about?' the man asked, but his voice sounded a million miles away.

Noctis felt his hand being taken and the ring twisting off his finger. No. No, he wasn't going to let that happen. A strange humming energy brushed against his mind. He had no idea what to do with it but he clung on to the threads and they danced and vibrated inside him. Warmth spread from his chest down his arm to his hand, until the man cried out and dropped his hand. The ring fell into the snow beside him.

'What was that?' the man demanded.

Noctis didn't know, but the skin of his hand was so hot that the snow beside him was starting to melt. Hotter and hotter it grew until the pain was almost too much, then suddenly it was gone. There was a burst of light and warmth on his face. Screaming, then footsteps as the man ran away with his clothes set aflame.

As the fire died out Noctis reached out blindly and relaxed when his fingers curled around the lump of metal. His metal. His ring.

-

When snow falls the world falls silent. It blankets the streets, the cars, the roads and muffles the echoes of footsteps or the whispers of voices. The flakes fly around dizzily, catch on the wind, and glow in the silvery gold glow of the streetlights.

Ignis's boots crunched the snow as he led the trio down one of the main streets of Insomnia. At this hour the shops were dark and the only noise came from clubs and bars. Tonight even they seemed strangely muted in the cold, snowy world. Most people were tucked up safely in bed which was exactly where he wished his prince was. His heart twisted painfully when he thought of his charge alone out here. While he hoped that the dark haired man might have found shelter he knew that in his fragile mental state Noctis was just as likely to be wandering around in the open searching for a familiar face in the unfamiliar surroundings.

'This is ridiculous, he can't have gone far,' Gladiolus grunted. 'Kid could barely hobble on those crutches and in this thick snow…'

Ignis said nothing. He had been thinking the same thing; that it was unlikely Noctis was still walking. Which meant that if their prince hadn't found shelter then he was sitting or laying somewhere out in the elements.

Snow was falling thickly around them now and covering the world in a white sparkling blanket. Under any other circumstances Insomnia would have looked beautiful, but to Ignis the dark sky and the white snow chilled him to his core. Because he was certain Noctis was out here waiting for them.

What also worried him was how quiet Prompto was. The blond man shuffled behind them with his gaze fixed firmly on his boots as they trudged through the gathering snowdrifts. He hadn't said a single word since they'd set out and would only answer direct questions with gestures or grunts. Ignis slowed his pace so that he fell into step beside the shorter man.

'Prom? How are you doing?'

'Eh,' Prompto said dismissively.

'That's not an answer,' Ignis pressed.

'What am I supposed to say?' Prompto asked. 'Noct's out here because of me. What does it matter how I feel? It's always about him, it's always my fault.'

Gladiolus stopped and turned around with a frown on his face. 'What are you talking about? This isn't your fault. And I think we made it pretty clear that we were looking after both of you since you got back from Niflheim.'

'It's my fault because I told him I was going away, and he got upset and left. It's my fault because I was upset that he left and didn't go after him. I never thought…I didn't know he was going to leave the palace. I thought he'd find one of you two or something. I never meant to hurt him. I never ever want to hurt him but that's all I seem to do. Everything I do screws everything up and I'm tired of it.'

With a thud he fell to his knees. Snow soaked through the denim of his jeans but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

'How many pep talks are we going to have to give you before you get it?' Gladiolus asked, but his voice wasn't angry. He knelt down beside Prompto and wrapped an arm around his shoulder which brushed off some of the snow. 'We're all in uncharted territory here. None of us knows what we're doing and we're all making mistakes. You're just feeling it more because you're feeling crappy yourself. Prom you've got to stop blaming yourself for these things. That's the only way you're making things worse. Stop letting yourself stress out over it all.'

Another hand slipped around his back, rubbing circles that he could barely feel through the layers of jacket and jumpers. But it was comforting nonetheless. Ignis was watching him, waiting for his breathing to even out a little before he spoke.

'You think you're not doing well, but have you had any more medication since you stopped them completely?'

Prompto shook his head. 'No. I don't dare.'

'I didn't approve of your method, but you've made it work. No matter what you might think you've managed to completely break an addiction. That isn't a feat that should go unnoticed, Prompto, you've done amazingly well.'

'I'm stressed all the time. I upset Noct-'

'His Highness upset himself. Once we find him we'll explain everything to him and help him understand. You probably should have waited for us to be there to tell him for the support. But it doesn't matter. We'll find him, and everything will be well,' Ignis insisted.

Prompto still wasn't sure. He still felt like an ass for upsetting Noctis enough to have him run away, but he could recognise that moping in the snow wasn't going to help anything. Insomnia was a huge city and there were always trains and buses that Noctis might have managed to get on to other parts of Lucis. They needed to find him before someone else did.

Gladiolus pulled him to his feet and it was as he was dusting caked on snow from the knees of his jeans that he felt it. Something familiar that he hadn't felt in a long time and had half expected never to feel again. A warmth in his chest that fizzed and bubbled like sparks; magic.

'Do you guys feel that?' Prompto asked, trying to turn toward the source.

'Feel what?' Gladiolus asked, always the worst with magic. 'Wait, that…is that Noct?'

Ignis took a step in the direction they were being pulled in; the bond that linked them to the crystal through their prince was getting stronger, hotter. Magic was being actively used somewhere nearby. 'He's using magic.'

'How does he even know that he has magic? We haven't told him, right?' Prompto asked.

Gladiolus grinned. 'Maybe he's not as lost as we think. He's coming back to us, Prom. Taking his sweet time, but he's still there. So let's go and get him.'

The three took off at a run in the direction of the magic source. It wasn't easy; though it had started off strong it was fading away, like a candle burning itself out. With the last traces of magic singing in their veins, calling them to the prince, they entered the park just as it faded completed. But they no longer needed the magic to track him; the prince was a dark shape against the otherwise pure white carpet.

'Noct!' Prom screamed, slipping on the snow as he ran forward. He was already dropping to his knees as the other two skidded to the ground beside him. Prompto reached out then drew back as he noticed the dark pink snow beneath Noctis's head. The prince's eyes were closed, snowflakes clinging to dark eyelashes and lips pale blue. 'Oh Etro, is he…?'

'He's breathing, Prom, calm down,' Ignis said, shuffling forward on his knees and gently turning Noctis onto his side to probe the wound gently with the pads of his fingertips. There was a nasty lump but the bleeding had all but stopped. 'Head wounds bleed a lot. The wound is fairly shallow so it won't take much to heal it though I imagine he'll have a decent concussion. I'm more worried about hypothermia.'

Gladiolus was already shrugging out of his coat. He didn't feel the cold as much as the others and had half expected that if they found Noctis he would be donating his jacket to the younger man. Ignis brushed snow from Noctis's dark hoodie then carefully gathered the prince in his arms and wrapped the large, warm coat around the prince. It dwarfed him, but it was warm and comfortable and that was all that mattered.

Prompto ran his hand down Noctis's arm, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. 'He's so cold.'

'We'll get him back to the palace and warm him up,' Ignis promised, pausing as he noticed Noctis's eyes flutter. He set Noctis's head into his lap and gently ran a hand over the prince's forehead, brushing wet hair from his eyes. 'Highness?'

Noctis's eyes blinked up; the pupils were dilated and unfocused, but he managed to fix on a point just over Ignis's shoulder. 'Lyra,' he muttered.

'Lyra?' Ignis asked, wondering if the prince were mumbling. Then he realised Noctis was looking at the stars. He laughed softly and bent down to press his own cold lips to Noctis's forehead in a kiss. 'No, Highness, you won't be able to see Lyra. It's only visible from spring until autumn. You'll have to wait a few months.'

Noctis blinked slowly, one eye sticking as the cold dampness of his eyelashes made it difficult. 'Kept the ring,' he said softly, with a voice hoarse from the cold. 'My dad gave it to me. When I was…when I was eighteen. Couldn't lose it.'

Prompto realised the hand he was holding was curled around something. When he gently opened up Noctis's hand he found the Caelum family ring in Noctis's palm. He slipped it on to Noctis's finger for him. 'There you go, buddy. Back where it belongs. He gave it to you on your birthday. You…you remember that?'

The nod was slow and stiff but it was there. 'He asked me to his office. You all came and stood behind me.' Noctis sighed, and closed his eyes properly. A cough overcame him; a horrible, wet cough that made him curl in toward Ignis. 'Oww.'

Gladiolus took pity and gently took him from Ignis's arms. 'Yeah, I bet oww. Come on little guy, reminiscing is great and all, but I think you need to go and get warmed up.'

'I think we _all_ do,' Ignis said, getting to his feet then holding out a hand to Prompto.

Prompto's heart was still thumping hard in his chest. Noctis had been talking about things that he couldn't have known. Not unless he was starting to remember. Painful hope ran through him; he almost didn't dare believe that Noctis was remembering things all on his own. After so long it seemed impossible. He half worried that he was dreaming, that any second he would wake up and find it was a trick. But Ignis's hand was warm and solid in his and the pain in his knees as he finally stood up was real. Gladiolus was walking ahead, bathed in golden light like a saint as he carried the small dark figure home. Arms slipped around him and held him briefly. Prompto tipped his head back against Ignis's shoulder.

'Does this mean-'

'It means there's hope,' Ignis interrupted. 'It means that no matter what happens next, he's our prince and our friend.'

'Yeah,' Prompto said softly. The knot of worry in his stomach began to loosen for the first time in months. 'Yeah, he is.'


End file.
